What Pride Had Wrought
by Tsutabon
Summary: After the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, a woman collapses out of the fade. Causing the small town of Haven to fear, and Solas to wander the fade seeking answers, but some answers were better left alone. Follows some canon and then veers in random directions. Rated M in some situations, will continue on in later chapters as well.
1. Chapter 1

The sky hazed, what was left of the explosion left the ground scorched, the sky filled with smoke, the lyrium in the ground burning red. People staggered to their feet, shields and staves in hand, the Temple of Sacred Ashes no more. From it, a large green pillar spilled into the sky, tearing a hole into this world.

Her eyes slowly opened, dazed and confused by her surroundings. Her hand burned furiously, her pain only equal to that of her harrowing. A reminder only when she gently pushed herself up from the hard rocky surface. She held her hand out from her face. Blotting out the eerie sun in the sky, her eyes desperately trying to adjust to the world around her. She could barely see, the green tinge of the sky, the eerie mist that surrounded her. This was not the Temple of Sacred Ashes. This was different, this place only seemed to remind her of her darkest dreams, the fears that once settled inside of her once in the circle tower. This was no longer the conclave that she remembered.

The ground was rocky, sharp, like daggers waiting to impale the unsuspecting. Her voice caught in her throat as she tried to yell, scream, anything, for anyone. But there was nothing coming from her mouth, to no avail. Her legs felt uneasy, her body felt bruised and sore from whatever happened. Her recollection was at an impasse. She remembered nothing of what happened.

She felt uneasy in her new surrounding. The air was thick and humid, like she was underwater. Her hands felt clammy in their leather gloves, her body felt weighted down by her cloth robe, her leather jerkin feeling uncomfortably tight. She wanted to adjust, to fix herself and the situation, but there was no time as her eyes looked up through the mists. Atop the jagged rocks there stood a glowing figure, and her feet found their way forward without any thought.

Her body continued to move on it's own, each foot taking a step, up the rocky stairs. The shining figure still unmoved, unchanged. She winched at the light that was growing before her, the darkness of this place unknown to such light. Her steps were calm, and grounded, slowly making her way up the steps until her ear caught a noise in the distance. Deep beneath the thick green mists.

The noise skittered across the ground, getting closer and closer. Her feet feeling alittle more urgent in it's steps. Her mind kept telling her not to look back. That haste will only be her downfall and the end to herself in such a place. She believed it, thought it was true until she saw spiny legs and abdomens running through the mists. Their eyes upon her, fangs drawn and legs moving faster than she anticipated. Her eyes widened, and her feet took off in full haste, regardless of what her mind thought, she needed to run.

Her hands grabbed ahold of the jagged rocks, pulling herself up the side, feet making all efforts to meet her flight instinct. She could feel the rocks begin to cut through her thick leather gloves and she still reached out, each rock getting closer and closer to her palm. '_Maker'_ she thought as she kept climbing, her head turning back, the noises becoming louder. '_Maker not here. Not now.'_ Her hands reached out again on another rock, pulling herself up. The glowing figure stood there, out reaching a hand to her. She tried to reach, her gloves sticking with sweat, her brow furrowed, panic began to fill her face as she struggled. ' _Maker please...'_ Her mind prayed to the Maker, to the divine, to anyone. Her left hand reached out, closer but not enough, another step, closer. She felt her hand burn, as she finally closed the distance. A flash of green light enveloped her and the woman as her whole body began to burn.

She burned, she could feel fire hitting her cheeks as her body slumped forward. Her knees hitting the rough ground around her. The air smelled tainted, like burning flesh, and death that surrounded her. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as the rest of her body began to fall forward, towards the hard ground. Her body was exhausted, it ached, it burned and it had finally given up after that whole ordeal. Her face laid there on the ground, dirt smudging along her face and into her hair. Finally, at last she could breath, she could speak.

"Maker…." Was all that escaped her lips. The air felt heavy, but behind all the smells, she could feel the cold of mountains linger and deep inside the smell of lyrium. That was the last thing before her body shut down and darkness consumed her.

There was a bright flash of green light in the center of the ruins. Right where the rift had appeared, Solas looked over the field, Cassandra nearby turning only when she heard the ruckus in the courtyard. Soldiers stood there, blades drawn upon an unconscious body. They stood there confused, terrified by the sight that they just witnessed.

"She stepped out of the fade.." One of the men said to the others. The men began to murmur amongst each other as Cassandra stepped forward.

"Take this person to the prison." She stood there, hand on her blade as she looked down upon the unconscious body. "She may be responsible for all of this.."

"But Seeker…" One of the men spoke up, "She stepped from the fade, with a woman behind her. Andraste herself I reckon."

"Speculation, we shall see for ourselves when she wakes up." Cassandras eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, Andraste she thought...No, this woman WAS responsible for the explosion at the Conclave, and she will get answers.

"Cassandra…" Solas spoke, the elf seemed wise beyond his years, "This situation is...difficult.."

"What's the problem?" She hissed out, again annoyance coming though. Why she was being questioned by everyone she couldn't understand.

" I feel….A magic here." He grabbed the unconscious woman's left arm. The glove split open across her palm. "This is different, like the magic in the rift. I will require more time to study it.."

" You're running out of time Solas. We WILL take her to the prison. There, you can study this...Magic." Cassandra took a swift turn, shutting down the conversation between herself and Solas.

He took a nod and turned back to the sleeping body. The soldiers seemed standoffish to the situation, refusing to touch the possible traitor laying there on the ground. Solas let out a sigh of disbelief as he wrapped the woman's arm around the back of his neck pulling her up. One arm holding her in place, the other wrapped around her waist, keeping her close as her feet dragged along the ground.

The soldiers watched, confused, scared, and angry as Solas slowly made his way back to Haven, two long lines outlining their descent back to the town.

People murmured and whispered as Solas was outside the town. The gate swung open to swarms of people, most of them already deciding this person's fate. She had spoken no words, made no movements, her body was still and her head hung down, dirt smeared across the right side of her face. He had finally reached Adan in his house, pouring over paperwork and potions.

"What is this?" He asked inquisitively, "Who is this person?" Solas slumped her body onto the vacant bed, her body limp. Adan looked at the situation and asked Solas again, "Solas, who is this?"

Solas sighed as he picked up her legs, setting them on the bed. "I don't know. Cassandra feels she is guilty, but I am here to produce results."

"You best be getting them soon." Adan said, "I don't think that big hole in the sky is going to fix itself."

Solas looked down at her hand, flashes of green light coming from her hand. She seemed catatonic to the effect the mark. Solas crouched next to the bed, looking at Adan.

"She will need to be observed, to ensure that we don't lose her in the night." He looked out the window, the torches coming to life, the beginning sounds of rabble coming from outside. People were uncertain of this woman and her actions. But they already wanted her blood.

"Or to the crowd that's building." Adan said snarkily as he closed the window to the group gathering. "You have my cooperation Solas, I will keep her under observation. Until Cassandra says otherwise."

Solas nodded accepting Adan's help with the situation, the day was long, and the night he felt, would be longer. He left the house, only walking 20 feet away, staying in a house nearby. He left the group gathering outside alone. He decided to let them whisper.

"They say that Andraste herself was there when she left the fade."

" She left the fade, the FADE!"

Solas wanted nothing to do with the group, only wanted to seek out silence in his room. He shut the door, sitting on his bed, pouring over into a tome he was reading earlier. There wasn't much left in the night, the glow from the rift illuminating the outside. Solas rested his head, desperately trying to get some answers from the fade.

Solas wandered the fade, crossing the dreams of mortals in Haven. It seemed with the veil being so thin here the spirits have fled. Leaving only demons in their wake. Solas spied dreams of peoples fears, of the rift tearing the whole world asunder. Of demons consuming them all, of mages gone mad. Templars running with blood lust, of a world that Solas had no time to consider.

He looked through the dreams, each and everyone of them in the small town of Haven. Hoping to come across some sort of answer.

His hand brushed out through the air, still scanning through each thing until he came across something that caused him to stop. A dreamer, with a dream from the Conclave.

It was faint, very little detail, only a few words here and there, not much else. He focused his mind on the dream, causing it to become clearer. Words began to come through, faces, and shapes. Soon, what felt like a dream Solas realized, was instead a memory.

He looked at the face of a woman, her brown eyes were tender and sweet, her face round, her hair was long, and braided to the side. She looked younger than her actual age, especially when she smiled. The image focused, she was talking to someone, smiling lightly at them, as the image cleared he watched the memory unfold before him.

"Anara " A voice came from behind Solas, a man approaching the young woman. He closed in on the her standing there in the hall shoulder braced on a door frame. "This is for you." He held out a flower, a smile spread upon her lips. Solas looked at the flaming sword symbol on his shield. Templar. He walked around the couple eyeing over the young woman. A mage, a circle mage, it was the only explanation he could think of. She took the flower, "Thank you Fennick." She placed the flower in her hair, "After what I heard about Kirkwall I feared I would never see you again." The Templar took her hands into his.

"No Anara, after what we've shared, I would never be without you.." He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against hers. Her eyes closed, as she felt his hand clasp around the small of her back, pulling in for a kiss.

It was quick, and chaste, lips gently pressing against one another, no passion and sadly disappointing. "Fennick...You know that I cannot live on sweet promises and chaste kisses." Her eyes met his, Solas spying an understanding between the two of them.

"I know love. Come." His hand reached out to hers, guiding her through the tower. It was late at night, no one bothered to search these passages that she was guided through.

"Fennick?" She asked, as they came to a stop, they reached the top of an old tower. The roof was broken through, the sky was clear and the stars above them watched like ancient lovers.

Fennick pulled her against his body. His hand trailing down her face, caressing her cheek, stroking her jaw line, before resting his thumb upon her lips. Her lips parted, anticipating his kiss, she shivered at his touch.

Solas felt awkward, spying upon such tender and private moments, but this was about the conclave, and there had to be more here then this. He shifted uncomfortably knowing that there was no way to progress a dream, or to change it. He had to wait this out and hope for the best.

Fennick looked into her eyes, touching her darkened skin, the sun freckles upon her face, "Maker.." He said, "You are beautiful.." he leaned in, his lips touching her, his hands trailing up her back, while hers fought to keep herself afloat, lost in the kiss. Her fingers clung to his armor, as she moaned, feeling his tongue move across her bottom lip, seeking entrance. With another moan she parted her lips, allowing the Templar access. His tongue clashed with hers, a heated battle began between them, like all battles between Templar's and Mages. She moaned again as his hands slid down the small of her back, resting on her backside.

Solas heard a growl from the man as he picked up the woman, pulling her up from the floor, carrying her to the blankets laid out on the floor. He didn't know still how he felt about what he was watching, but he kept assuring himself that there was something else here.

Her hands were deftly removing the armor, like she had done it many times before. It seemed to be second nature to her at this point, her hands removing the gauntlets. The chest plate, the shoulder pauldrons. Templar's seemed to wear too much armor is what Solas seemed to gather from all this time spent removing JUST armor. Finally after so long all that armor was removed, pieces clattered all over the room, she giggled.

"Finally, I get you. All to myself." Her hands ran up his cotton tunic, traveling over the plains of his flat stomach, finally feeling skin against skin. She bit her bottom lip as she began to remove his shirt. " I want to see you again…" She said pulling the tunic over his head. "All of you." Fennick grabbed her leg, pulling her down the blankets, she yelped and giggled some more until his body pressed against hers. She moaned loudly as he thrust his erection against her womanhood. The pressure alone was enough to drive her mad. His head dipped down to her neck sending small kisses along her throat. "Fennick." She moaned as his hands began to disrobe the mage beneath him.

"I wish to see all of you as well.." He said, his hands working furiously on laces and latches. Solas saw her leg become more exposed as she wrapped them around the Templars hips. Her back arched to his touch as her shoulder became exposed to the cold air. Her moans became more frantic as his hands moved about finally getting through the last lacing. He slowly pulled apart the robe, exposing her skin to the cold air. His head turning its attention lower from her neck. She shivered at the feeling of the cold air, and Fennick sunk his teeth into her shoulder. She yelped, not in pain, but in sweet agony to what she knew would become a fresh bruise. His lips traveled along her collarbone and down to her firm breasts. His tongue played with her tanned skin, running along her breasts, teasing her nipples with his tongue.

"Fennick!" she hissed as her back arched again into his touch. His mouth finally closing around a nipple, sucking gently as his tongue flicked against it. His name began to spread upon her lips. "Fennick, oh Fennick please…" Her leg running up his back as she continued to chant his name.

Solas stood there wide eyed, he was truly intruding upon a private memory. One that he had no want or means to escape at this point. All the dreams he sifted through were hopeless and filled with fear. But he saw in a town filled with fear this was the only warmth that he felt and perhaps that's the only reason he didn't want to leave.

Solas watched as a hand stole down to the woman's inner thighs, his head moving to the other side of her breasts, giving both equal attention. He could feel inside of himself the sensuality of watching others intimate moments. Something he wouldn't normally be proud of, but the scene unfolding before him was too much to ignore. Solas heard her moan, her breath beginning to hitch as her back arched again. The Templar's hand was no longer on her inner thighs, but instead penetrated her body.

Her eyes shut, her lips open and gaping like she was struggling for air. Solas wanted nothing more at this point then to kiss those lips. Human or no, she was beautiful, her hair had frayed from the braid and spread across the blanket like tree roots. Dark brown hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, lush lips wet with desire and those noises coming from her mouth. Unfiltered, and uncaring for the world around her, giving in only to pleasure.

His finger stroked her, gently thrusting into her body, preparing her until another finger joined. Spreading her, stroking her inside as his thumb came into contact with her nub. She writhed, a jolt running through her as his thumb rubbed against her sensitive spot. His tongue trailed up her throat, his mouth claiming her again as he sped up his fingers. Wringing out all kinds of noises from her until she was writhing on the blankets, begs and moans upon her lips. "Fennick Please...Please…" Her hands went down to his, causing his fingers to stop. "I can't take anymore of this, please take me.."

Solas could feel a hard pressed erection growing in his breeches, he swore in his mind if the templar didn't take her he would, damn be memories or dreams within the fade. There was a chuckle, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" The Templar chimed in, his fingers continuing their pace, She stuttered, her lips quivering, her body aching, her breasts heaving as her fingers grasped at the floor, fingers slipping on cobbles as her orgasm overtook her.

"Fennick!" she almost screamed his name as her body clenched tight around his fingers. He smiled, as he withdrew his fingers, sucking on them, "I will never tire of this sight." He towered over her, her body completely exposed to not only him but to Solas as well.

Her stomach was flat and tight, her thighs strong and her legs lean. Fennick sat on the back of his feet, unlacing his breeches. A slow and arduous process that was leaving Solas angry and unsatisfied. He kept cursing that this was a memory, and not a dream, dreams can be disturbed, changed. But he hated again and again that he couldn't change this.

Fennick finally unlaced his breeches, pulling himself free, his hand running over his shaft, "Is this what you want?" Her mouth shut tightly, nodding her head silently, His free hand gripped her hip nails slowly biting into flesh causing her yelp in the smallest amount of pain. "Speak when spoken to..Is this what you want?"

She let out an exasperated moan, "Yes." She nodded, "By the maker yes…" she bit her lip as his hand released her hip, another bruise to be fresh in the morning.

"Good…" He said holding himself at her entrance. Rubbing the head against the wet folds of her womanhood. She shuddered, her hands grasping again at the cobblestone. He savored the feel of her wet slit against him as he slowly pressed against her entrance. She moaned, sweetly like all of her breath was being drawn out of her body. Her back arched off the blankets, her legs wrapping around his hips. He waited, hoping not the ruin the moment by finishing too quickly. He waited for her to relax, for the hot tightness wrapped around him to relax. For he didn't want to hurt her.

Solas fell to his knees watching these humans consummate, he never found humans interesting, instead merely tolerable. But in this moment it was replaced with an insatiable lust for one in particular. His mind wandered in the fade, replacing the Templar crouched and inside this woman with himself. He could feel her magic pool with his, creating new sensations and feelings within them both. His hand stole down into his breeches, clenching on his erection. Imagining the slick, tight heat that awaited to Templar.

His thrusts were shallow and slow, still waiting for her to adjust. She began to relax, his hands touching her body, spreading the warmth that sat at the base of her spine. She closed her eyes, a moan escaping her lips as he buried himself to the hilt. Fennick shivered, the tight heat fully surrounding him.

Solas slumped over, his hand wandering inside of his breeches, his hand stroking his length as he continued to watch this memory. His mind wondered who this woman was, or if she was even still alive. He wished so much for her to be real, to be right in front of him, for himself to be buried within her. To feel those fingers, hear those sweet noises, to know the taste of her lips. She seemed intoxicating from every angle, every perspective, and although he should feel dirty or embarrassed by this intrusion, he didn't anymore. He shivered his hand running up his length, trying to time himself with each thrust.

"Fennick.." She moaned as he began to gain a rhythm, his body slumped over hers, his face burying into her neck, leaving kisses and nips along her shoulder. Her moan became louder and her legs twined around his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts. He hit her deeper, gasps of surprise escaping her lips as his pace began to deteriorate.

He groaned at the feel of his hand, still imaging his body on top of hers. His thrusts losing rhythm, his teeth grazing her skin. His words, oh what sweet elvish words he could say to her. What dirty things he could say, what he could do with his magic to help her forget all about that Templar. Solas was hitting a level of jealousy with someone that he didn't know was alive, but in this moment it didn't matter. Only satisfaction, and completion was on his mind, as he began thrusting into his hand, the front of his breeches fully opened.

Fennick lost his rhythm, losing himself in the pleasure washing over him. Words no longer coming to mind as he grunted into her shoulder with each savage thrust. She was too tight, too warm, but wonderfully wet against his member. Each thrust bringing him closer to the edge of ecstasy, "Anara…" Was the only thing he could say, was the only thing he could think of. Breathing into her collarbone, their sweat collecting on their bodies, he was beginning to lose himself completely to pleasure.

"Fen...Fennick.." She moaned again as he thrust deep into her, hitting a spot within her that caused her toes to curl. "Fennick...wait….Wait…" His thrusts still were savage and without a rhythm as she pushed his chest from hers, looking into his eyes. "Fennick, please…" Her hands moved up his chest pushing him further away. "Let it be my turn." She bit her bottom lips, a mischievous look in her eyes as the man let go of his control.

Her body straddled his as he laid down on the blankets. Their new position was enough for Solas's imagination to run wild, her hair was free from it's previous braid, sweat sheen her body. Her hips raised above, positioning the Templar at her entrance, Solas could hear the sounds of light crackling as her hand raised up. A small lightning spell upon her fingertips. She lowered herself upon him as her hand spread across his chest. He arches his back, unknown if it was from just entering her again, or the electricity light running on his skin.

Solas sat there, panting and disheveled, looking down the woman's body,the templar tore the last of the mage robe from her body. Her arms completely free to roam about his skin. His eyes crossed every plain, every valley, every dip and mole he memorized. He closed his eyes, stroking his shaft harder, his other hand tearing through his shirt, freeing his skin to the air. He could feel an electricity building on his free hand, his fingers lightly touched his chest, sending small waves of electricity through his body. He groaned, his hand gripping tighter as his eyes opened, looking over her body again.

She began to ride him, her hands still running over his chest, nails digging into his arms. She gasped as he began to hit her deep again. The electricity still crackled through her fingers, Fennick arched his back underneath her, the electricity and the feel of her body becoming too much. His hips began to move on their own. Meeting up with her in each thrust, hitting deeper, and deeper. Control was going out the window between them. He groaned, "Anara…" His patience beginning to run out as he got closer.

"Fennick" Her breasts bounced with each thrust, as she bit her bottom lip trying to stop her moans from escaping. But he knew better than that, his hands gripping her hips as he thrust hard into her body. "Ahh!" Her back arched, the spell lost to the feeling of him inside her.

He pulled himself up from the floor, his head burying in her chest, his tongue running up her sternum. "Anara.." His grip became tighter as he pushed her back down into the blankets. His thrusts savage and wild, no order whatsoever to his movements. He was fast approaching his climax. His hands grasping a breast, as he continued thrusting.

Solas was approaching his climax as well, watching both of them lose control made it easier to accept his fate here. His eyes closed, he was so close now, but he had to hold out for her. For her orgasm to take over and clench around his arousal.

"Fennick…" She huffed, words escaping her, as her body was fighting, her toes began to curl as they wrapped tighter around his hips. Her fingers clawing at the blankets, her eyes shut tight, he could feel her body welling up around him. Solas slowly began gripping tighter, and tighter imagining her body wrapped around him. "Fenn...Fenni...Fennick.." She was gasping, panting his name, a prayer upon her lips. Her hands dug into the blankets as she cried out his name, her body clenching around him. All the magic in her body felt like it was drawn out of her, like it was suppressed or it just disappeared. Her body clenched around Fennicks manhood as he reached his edge, falling gladly into the precipice. His hands clenched on her hips as he gave a few more savage thrusts, spilling his seed inside of her.

Solas watched and waited for the woman's orgasm, her reaction was enough to send him over the edge, "Anara.." he whispered upon his lips as his climax took him, spilling his seed over his hand and on the ground.

His body gave in, and Solas felt There was nothing left for him in the fade, his body ached after holding onto such release for so long. He knew nothing about this memory, or whose memory it was really. But that didn't matter at this point, his body was exhausted, and wandering around the fade wasn't actually aiding in his sleep. He decided to give up and reach for the tendrils of sleep that tugged so heavily on his body. His mind reliving what he saw, but recreating it into his own fantasy.

Solas opened his eyes, looking at the ceiling of his room, his body still aching from his steps in the fade. As much as he wished to ignore his body and go back to sleep he knew that there was a patient that Adan had waiting for him in the house next door. Solas's feet touched the floor, deciding to take his time to travel the 20 feet. He lingered outside his door, feeling the cold air on his face, looking into the rift that split the sky, soon he should be able to figure it out. He just needed to test a few theories before hand.

His feet cooled on the compact snow, as he took his steps, walking towards Adans house.

"Adan, " Solas said coolly, walking around the corner looking down at his hands, "How is our prisoner, I mean patient today?" He asked inquisitively looking up at the bed, his heart stopped.

"She is doing fine for right now. There were a few moments in the night, some thrashing. But otherwise I was able to cover her cuts and get all that dirt off her face. No one in this town is willing to help, except myself and a terrified elf woman. She's the one who changed her bandages, and did all that woman stuff. The Chantry sisters want nothing to do with this area to be honest." Adan huffed to himself as he turned his attention back to his potions.

Solas stood there, in silent exclamation at the sleeping body before him. The ruined mage robes gone, the dirt from her face removed, the small cuts and bruises on her face fading. Her hair was combed and braided to the side. It was at this moment he realized the human he lusted for was right in front of him asleep. That it was her memory that he wandered into, his body began to react to the memory, remembering the three moles on her stomach, the way her lips parted, and the sweet sounds from her lips.

Solas turned away, desperately trying to escape, mumbling an excuse to Adan as he left. He stood there in the cold. Trying to bring himself together, not only for his sake, but if he couldn't get results then the world would be doomed. He hunched over, sitting on his heels as he breathed, centering himself before his body calmed down enough to reach for the door and make his way back inside.


	2. Chapter 2

The door shut behind him as he did his best to move his thoughts from his mind. 'Don't think about her...Don't think about her...' His hands felt clammy, his legs needed to shift as he moved forward through the house, making the corner, he turned his attention to the unconscious woman. Solas walked across the floor, sitting next to the bed of the woman whose name seemed drawn upon his lips. "Anara…" he whispered holding onto her left hand, his fingers gently stroking her palm as he closed his eyes.

'Anara' his mind sought out her magic, wading through the magic surrounding her mark. His fingers continued to caress her hand. Her skin soft to the touch, His hand wandered up her arm, feeling the magic of the mark moving. Each time he felt the Breach expand, her arm jerked, the magic was spreading further. He could feel the magic attached to her begin to flood her body, with each expansion, it seeped more and more. He could feel where the mark ended and where her magic began, just right below her elbow. Her arms were strong, and surprisingly muscular for her being a mage, it was not a common sight. Her tanned arms scared across the shoulder, he saw the scar spread out like a bolt of lightning, moving across her shoulder, to her collarbone and perhaps across her back. This scar he felt was not from a simple sword, or dagger, or even simple magic. This he felt was created by the mark, he tried to rack his brain around what type of magic could leave not only a physical mark, but a magical one as well.

His mind was confused as it tried to grasp out at answers, but nothing came to mind. He felt like it was a pointless task at this point to try and determine it. The woman next to him was unmoved by the situation that she has been thrust into. At the world that was changing around her, at the fear that began to consume the hearts and minds of people around her. But in there, she felt none of it, just the warmth and familiarity of an old lover. That was something in Solas's heart of hearts he envied, the ability to shut it all out, and live with only the light in ones mind.

But he couldn't dwell upon it for too long, the day was already at it's apex. He spent so long studying the mark that he needed to theorize more about this magic and it's link to the Breach that lit the sky.

His feet shifted on the floor, as he stood up from the seat. Looking over at Adan, messing with his potions, mumbling to himself about ingredients. Not taking any notice to the elf behind him.

"I will be going up the mountain, to study the Breach. Please keep an eye on her."

Adan muttered, waving his hand behind himself dismissing the elf. "Yes, yes. Eyes will be watched, no need to worry."

Solas paused to Adan's muttering, trying to determine if he actually heard him. He tilted his head away and moved away towards the door. He was the most capable hands in this town, and it was better than the alternative.

As Solas walked outside the door, looking to the sky he heard the all too familiar shuffling of Varric cleaning Bianca, "So, the Seeker believes she's responsible. An unarmed, unconscious woman." His arm came out to clean the aiming mechanism, giving her a quick shine.

"She's a mage Varric, she doesn't need a staff to kill anyone." His words sounded bitter, something that he was trying to avoid, but failed at. It was something that he was getting used to more and more. Perhaps it was the pressure he was under to produce results. Or perhaps it was other reasons that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. His mind wandered into what he felt was the reasoning behind his sudden escalation in timidness. His mind wandered as did his eyes until they fell over the dwarf standing there, looking like he was trying to see through Solas, tearing away at him like wallpaper, "Is there something wrong Varric?"

"No, just trying to figure out what's your deal Chuckles." Varric's nickname seemed to emphasis Solas sour temperament, "Just trying to figure out if this change in mood is the seekers fault or.." His head turned to Adans house, "Or that person in there."

Solas turned down his head, shaking it slightly, "It has nothing to do with her, I'm almost at an impasse, and I fear I won't be able to get the results Cassandra seeks. "

Varric chuckled, "The only answers she seeks are the ones that are in her head. Leliana can tell you different, but her mind I feel is already made up Chuckles." Varric gave him a casual wave as he picked Bianca back up, slinging her over his shoulder. Regaling himself in his own tales as he walked away, making his way back to his small camp in the town.

Solas needed the time alone, the town of Haven was starting to become cramped with refugees and pilgrims. All of them trying to find some purpose, and solitude from the troubles in this world, thinking that their presence in Haven, would solidify them. His feet trekked through the pact snow, walking through the gate that led him to the mountain. The walk was cold, but it helped bring himself back down from the heavens. Helping to ground him in this world, despite all it's apparent flaws. His eyes turned back to the sky, the Breach getting closer as he kept his distance from the demons that spawned.

He struggled with the thoughts that filled his mind as he tried to study the Breach, feel it's magic, it's pull and how it was connected to the mark. He could feel it grow, expand, spread and with each surge of power that he felt, his mind wandered. Tracing it's way back to Haven and back to the warm hand that the mark seemed to occupy. His efforts felt at a waste, and as much as he wished not this fate, he began to doubt his abilities. Residing in the idea of fleeing, as his last resort if he cannot find a way to close the Breach.

His mind kept wandering through the fade, still trying to seek answers, looking for her memories again. Hoping this time not to intrude on her most private thoughts. But when he entered the fade there was no trace of her, or her memories. A panic filled his body, a feeling began to swell in his chest. Could the breach have killed her? Could the magic have spread so quickly? Will he have to flee now because of Cassandra? There were so many questions now that flooded his mind that his instincts were thrown into disarray. His feet found the compacted snow, and his breath became labored as he raced down the mountain, all thoughts of himself out the window.

The temple was no small trek from Haven, but he ran the whole way. His legs feeling strained and overused, it was the first time in awhile that he'd ran in a panic. But he felt that this wouldn't be the last time either and in that, he settled his mind. Keeping himself together, expecting panic and chaos to consume all of Haven with the death of their captive. But when the doors to Haven opened there was nothing. No change in routine, no rush for survival, no overjoyed rings of death, it was all the same from when he left it. The sun was hanging low, the pastel hues spreading across the sky, darkness slowly creeping in behind it like an unwelcome guest. Solas looked about in confusion, looking at the common rush of people going about their daily lives.

Varric stood there at his fire, looking at Solas, "Something bothering you Chuckles?" His hands reaching out to the fire, keeping himself warm.

"It's alright Varric, I thought something was amiss." Solas quickly dismissed the Dwarfs concern looking back up at the Breach. Perhaps he was too far away from her to feel her presence in the Fade? Maybe the Breach was disrupting his abilities? Maybe she had truly died to her injuries? All speculation and theories at this point. He had nothing else mentally to grasp to as he walked around the town. Leliana was at her tent, planning moves and countermoves against an unknown enemy. Preparing for the very worst for the small town.

Cassandra stood there at the training dummies, eyeing them as if they were her greatest enemies. Her mind seemed to wander past the world that was right in front of her. Since the death of Justinia, Cassandra and Leliana seemed more on edge then he figured they were. The right and the left hand of the divine, now scrambling, two limbs without a body.

Solas decided at that moment to try and avoid the previous hands of the Divine. Best not approach the two women who were lost in their grief and anger. Solas turned from the yard, deciding to take the easier route near Varric, at least with Varric he knew when to leave well enough alone.

The sky was clear and cold, the moon shining high, it's white visage desperately vying for position against the Breach. The clash of colors reminding him of his trips within the fade, feeling the thin veil and those he met there. Adans house was quiet, and he feared to enter, but there was a part of himself that reveled in the feel of her hand. The mark weighted within her, like an anchor. His steps were timid, and slow, his mind wandering through the day, what had he learned after all? Her shoulders were strong, her muscles defined, her hand warm...No, that's not what he meant, what did he learn from the breach? Their magic was similar, and they both were tied to each other. With it's expansion in the world it's magic spread within her. Perhaps killing her, which was a reality that Solas didn't want to face.

He heard a noise come from within the house. A man that didn't sound like Adan, someone more...authoritative. Without a pause, that fear that filled him to enter the house was gone, Solas was instead throwing the door wide open, the heat escaping into the cold night.

"What is this?" Solas asked, looking upon the men standing in the house, Adan standing between them and the woman.

"Ah, Solas." A voice rang out behind him, the clear accent from Ferelden. He could feel his magic being suppressed as he rounded the corner. "Just in time, I suppose. Cassandra has determined that the prisoner should be moved to the holding cell."

Solas turned, coming face to face with Commander Cullen, "She isn't even awake yet. She's been unconscious for only a day. In yet Cassandra insists that she be moved? We don't even know if she'll survive."

Solas could feel the ex-templars power suppress his own as he walked forward to the sleeping body. "What exactly have you learned from her Solas?" His eyes falling upon the sleeping face, "Do you think she is responsible?" he turned, looking Solas in the eyes.

"I do not know, but I know this. Whatever happened to her, she is connected to the Breach, and with it's expansion, she is dying." Cullen turned back around to the sleeping form on the bed.

"Hmm...so if she is responsible, then she has the worst kind of luck. If she isn't well, not much change in luck there." Cullen strode across the room, coming into distance with Solas, "I will give you a few more days, if she wakes up or she doesn't. She will be taken to the holding cells." With that Cullen turned to his men gesturing them to leave. As the house cleared out, he turned back to Solas, "I wish you the best of luck Solas, I really do. But this decision, isn't yours to make."

Solas cringed at the idea that this decision wasn't his to make, and unfortunately had to find a way to accept it. "I understand Commander." The last word, Commander rolled off his tongue like he was spitting venom. His ability to suppress magic was making Solas short tempered.

Cullen have a nod and finally left for the door, turning back to the still body before he shut the door behind him.

"What was that about?" Solas asked Adan who finally moved away from the bed, making his way to his journal his fingers clasping a quill.

" Commander Cullen was following orders from Seeker Pentaghast. She thinks that the patient is well enough to be moved to the holding cells. I tried to tell him that she hasn't even awoken yet. But again, the decision came from Seeker Pentaghast. It will soon be out of our hands Solas. We only have a few more days, if we're lucky."

Solas looked down, his feet shuffling as he tried to think. Cassandra was getting impatient, he felt wise in the fact that he left her alone, lest he get her ire as well. Solas finished his distance, taking a seat next to the bed. "So we're no longer in control of the situation?" He didn't know why he was asking, it was obvious by the presence of Cullen. But it only seemed to remind him of the situation that he was in, and the results he had to produce.

The night wore long as he tried again to feel the magic through her mark. Still sensing it's growth, ensuring his best to keep her alive for another night, before leaving her in the capable hands of Adan.

His back pressed against the door as it closed shut, solace finally after such a day. He hoped tonight that being so close to her, he can find her memories again, something more pleasant than the day that he had endured. His eyes struggled to stay open once he touched his bed, finally slipping into the cool relief of the Fade.

He listened to the shouts and screams of the dreams, people still fearing what they didn't know. Same fears, same anger, same hate for the same things, the same dreams seemed to exhaust Solas, there surely was more in life for these people then this? But there was no proof of it anywhere within the fade, despite how infinite it can be.

He shut his eyes, seeking the familiarity of her dreams, her memories. The warmth that he felt like the fleeting kiss of a lover, and that feeling he wished to feel more of.

The fade was foggy, corrupted by the Breaches expansion. but he focused, his mind drawing in his magic, still searching. Reaching out to her memories like tendrils, grasping for something tangible. He heard shouting in his ears, an angered cry from a man, the cursing and shouting continuing. This wasn't the warmth he was expecting, but when the image came to, the Anara he saw yesterday was different.

Her brown eyes filled with rage, her youthful face bruised across her cheek, her bottom lip bleeding. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration and anger, as he looked at the person that earned this gaze. He was older man, short, stocky,bald with scruff all over his face. He had a scar across his face that made him look grotesque, unhuman almost. But judging by his fighting stance, and how he silenced all magic in the room, Solas could easily tell it was a Templar.

" You cannot miss your Harrowing little Trevelyan." He shouted, running towards her, his arms open in an attempt to grab her.

Her body ducked under his clumsy run as she kicked him in the back, sending him reeling forward into the bookshelf. "I would rather be Tranquil!" She spat back trying to summon any magic from her body, the older man laughed turning from the shelf.

"You can try all you like little rabbit, but in the end, you WILL go to the harrowing. If I have to drag you there myself, by the maker I will." The doors opened as the Knight-Commander walked in, a slew of Templars following behind him.

"Dengar, by Andraste get this situation handled!" The Knight-Commander was tall, towering over the other Templar as he tried to corral the mage.

The scruffed old man smirked, "Oh rabbit you're in for it now. Knight-Commander doesn't want you to miss your harrowing. So be a good little lass and just follow suit. You'd hate for an accident to happen."

She was disheveled, her hair was untangled from her braid, her robe ripped, frayed around her legs as she looked prepared to cast a spell. Cheeks were flushed, her breathing ragged and her arms flexed in preparation. Her anger and her pride taking over, threatening to kill her and drown the circle in it's wake. She was a Trevelyan, of Ostwick, from a noble house, a house though that was more devoted to the Chantry than blood. She watched the Knight-Commander stand there, hand on his blade, prepared to have to slay the little beast that she was.

Her eyes scanned the Templars among the Knight-Commander. Each with their hand on their blade prepared for the very worst. She hated them, every single one of them, but in all she hated the Knight-Commander the most. He spoke up again, "The harrowing is necessary Anara, you don't want to be made tranquil do you?"

She gritted her teeth, knowing full well all these Templars had suppressed her powers beyond recognition. She was helpless, and fearful, her heart beating a million miles a minute, just like a rabbit. She straightened her posture, holding her head high, her pride and arrogance shining through.

"Then show me to your Harrowing Knight-Commander." She spoke, her voice thick with venom, "I do not fear your trials." She strode forward, the Knight-Commander standing well over a foot taller than her.

His fingers reached out, tilting her chin up to look into his eyes, "Come. Rabbit." He turned his back to her, the Templars clearing a path for him as they stood there, watching her.

Anara's feet moved, stepping forward, she was holding what pride she had left close to her chest. Unknowing of what was to follow her in her Harrowing.


	3. Chapter 3

Her eyes closed in pain, her body enveloped in what felt like liquid fire. Never before had she ever been exposed to Lyrium. It was in this moment that she never wanted to relive this experience again. The Templar's of this circle knew of her lack of experience with the substance, and decided to take precautions. Her arms jerked in pain, her voice cracking as she screamed in pain. Solas's heart felt like it was breaking watching her buckle over in body slumped on the ground as her arms were chained to the floor. But her body's reaction to the substance was terrifying.

She'd spasm in twitches on the floor, her body convulsing as the lyrium flowed through her veins. The mages around her looking in fear at the girls feral screams, her hands clawing at the floor. The Harrowing was different for everyone, and it seemed to her, that it would be the very death of her.

The mages around her chanted, their staves glowing as her head lolled side to side, looking about at the Templar's surrounding her. Her back jerked, her posture becoming painfully straight. Her hair had fallen from its braid, her curls surrounding her face like overgrown vines. Her face was bathed in sweat, her eyes looked like they hadn't slept in days. The mages kept chanting, the lyrium and magic flowing through them as she sobbed quietly, tears stinging the backs of her eye, threatening to appear.

The chant grew louder as she seemed to snarl, her hands digging into the floor, gazing about at the mages. As if an abomination was growing inside of her, or Trevelyan blood had shapeshifters in it. Solas had no clue, this dream, this memory was nothing of the sweetness that he had encountered before. But instead a different sense of intimacy, a knowledge of her Harrowing. A traditional secret, and a practice that had rarely been seen, let alone known outside the circle. But he stood there, as if he was there all those years ago.

Solas walked through the memory, setting himself in front of Anara. Her hands still clawing at the floor. His hand reached out, hoping to feel the warmth of her hand like he did earlier that day, but was met with a visage instead. His hand seamlessly passing through, as if he was touching a ghost. Memories, he had to remember were much different in the fade compared to dreams. It was a fact that he seemed to forget about in her presence. In the presence of a human let alone, a human that he seemed to grow attached to, as each day he spent in her presence and each night in her memories.

As the mages reached their crescendo, arms held out to Anara she gave out one more strangled cry into the empty air above her.

The Harrowing had finally begun.

Solas stood there, unable to follow this part of her memory into her trials in the fade. He watched the mages concentrate, bringing forth her own demon, pride.

The Templar's knew of her pride and thought it best to be her demon to face. She was a Trevelyan, her family steeped in pride and loyalty. But her time in the circle had made her unruly, and disloyal to the Chantry. It was her pride that stopped her progression, and it was her pride that they felt would be the end of her.

The Templar's prepared themselves for the possibility of a failed Harrowing. The Knight-Commander stepping forward, unsheathing his blade, preparing to strike a killing blow just in case. Her hands clenched, eyes closed, head tilted back and mouth open. He imagined her mouth becoming unbearably dry from the feeling. He could imagine her cough as her neck came back to it's support, the muscles stretched uncomfortably thin. He could hear her breath slow, her heart no longer beating outside of her chest.

The Knight-Commander looked at the Templar's gathered around. As he raised his sword, prepared to end her life, he took the duty into his hands. Fearing the consequences that would unfold for his less prepared soldiers.

Time felt like it was a snails pace, she must've been in there for an hour. A few of the mages whispering, if she had truly fallen prey to a pride demon they all would've known by now. But instead she remained silent. Breath still escaping her body as if in a trance, she must've been fighting it, or else why would she still be here?

Solas scanned the crowds, memorizing faces, and the feel of this place. It was bright, at the very top of the tower. It seemed to make sense in a Harrowing, in case someone fell prey to a demon, less of a chance for structural damage to the tower. He then turned his attention to the Knight-Commander, who still stood there prepared to make his move. He watched his eyes, his sense of superiority over the mages is what kept him grounded. It seemed that Anara was the bane to his existence, causing fractures to appear in his group of men. More seemingly concerned for the treatment of mages, and their sense of independence. That he could feel in the man's gaze as he stared at her, what better way to defeat our enemy then through a Harrowing?

The man seemed to have an unbridled dislike for Anara, but at the same time, he saw something else within those eyes. Perhaps the very same thing that Solas could feel within himself when in sight of her. An unbridled sense of lust, he hated the woman that much he could tell. But in his position of power, he surmised that her constant questioning and actions burned a rage in him that felt like passion. He could see the man burying his hands in her hair, claiming her mouth as he took her on the floor, damn the people around him.

Just that thought alone and Solas hated him. An intensifying dislike began to spread through his stomach as the Knight-Commander took a step closer to Anara. Her mouth still open, and eyes still closed, her mind lost in the fade. He settled down on his knees, closer still, his breath hitting her ear as Solas leaned in listening, "By the maker, you better come back or I will fuck you in front of all of these people."

Solas could feel his teeth grit, almost wishing this was a dream, there would be some things that he wished to do to this Knight-Commander. He felt overprotective now, almost feeling like he was trying to shield her from the world around them. From the Templar's, from the mages, only to have the world have him and her, and no one else to ruin it.

Solas heard a breath escape her lips, words out of reach. There was a groan in her voice, like she was coming back finally from the fade. The mages seemed panicked as they rushed themselves, trying once again to focus with lyrium as they unshackled her from the fade.

Her head flew forward and her body collapsed, feeling the stone against her face, her body trying to stave off the burning from her first taste of lyrium. The Knight-Commander stood over her, blade drawn again. "Who are you?" He said, prepared for the wrong answer.

"Anara," She coughed, her hands still struggling in the chains. "Anara Trevelyan, and there is no way, YOU are fucking me." She wiped the spittle from her mouth as she raised herself back up, her back uncomfortable and in pain as she adjusted to her new position. "I await your judgement, Knight-Commander." Her eyes met his as he nodded to the Templar's, they sheathed their blades, standing down.

"I judge that you are without an abomination. You have passed your Harrowing, rabbit." He reached down grabbing her by the chin, "But you are not free from me."

He sneered, feeling proud of himself as he allowed the mages to stay, going over Anara with their magic, ensuring that she healed properly, "Anara.." One of the mages spoke, trying to hand her a lyrium flask, "Take it, you'll feel much better."

She swatted the bottle away from her, the persons arm recoiling in pain, "I will not, I would rather starve, or die then to feel that ever again."

Solas felt some strange well of pride come up through his body. The Harrowing he knew was never an easy experience for any mage. But he was glad to know that she had pulled through her pride and came out of it as unscathed as possible.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she faded from consciousness, The Harrowing was much more exhausting than she realized. Solas stood there, watching her body being carried off by the senior mages of the circle. The door to the Harrowing closed behind them.

He sat there in the dark, unknowing of how to keep approaching the nights. Does he continue to dwell in her dreams, hoping to find some mysterious answer? Or does he move on and try to seek answers in the real world? Does he continue his fascination and pining for the woman that laid only a house away from him? He had no real answer, to his questions, just more questions replacing them. There was not much else that he felt he could seek in her mind. But he began to feel as if he was being watched, followed almost now that he seemed to be the only inhabitant of The Fade now. He wandered through the area, feeling a set of eyes upon him, his mind wondered what it was as he reflexively reached for his staff.

"Who is there?" He braced the staff in front of him, prepared for the ensnarement of a demon. But instead heard steps walking across the stone.

"Do you enjoy the dreams of mortals?" A voice seductive, and rich, nearing his body.

"I'm seeking answers in the Fade." He spoke, justifying his presence.

"Oh, I know what you've sought in the Fade." The voice continued, "Do you, _Desire_ her?" The focus on the words, made it clear. He had been found by a desire demon.

"Begone demon." Solas spat, a flare of his magic echoing outwards around him. The demon hissed back.

"You do desire her, I saw you. " Her hand stretched out to Solas's face. Burning through his magic. Her eyes looked into his fingers touching his face. " Do you want to hear her voice? Taste her lips? Feel her under you?" The demon hovered around Solas, her hand reaching over his shoulder, hands grazing down his chest. " I can give you that. Make her yours, and awaken her from her sleep. Or do you want to stay here, forever in her memories?"

Solas hated himself, in his lust he attracted the attention of a desire demon. Giving him promises that he knew were lies, but oh how sweet those lies would be.

"You don't believe me, I understand. But instead, let me show you what I promise." Her voice purring in his ear, as her hand left his chest, twisting the fade around them. Her mind had invaded his, pulling Anara from his memory.

"Solas.." Her voice rang to him, that sweet smile playing upon her lips. The cold of Haven reddening her cheeks, her hair left loose. Those loose brown curls framing her face, the sun freckles across her nose and her brown eyes shone in the moonlight.

She closed the distance between them, her hands reaching out to his. Solas reveled at how warm her hands were, how soft they felt, despite all her years in the circle. Solas felt a sense of completion feeling her hands in his. Her fingers began to link in between his, closing her fingers around his hand, her smile gentle and warm.

He pulled his hands from her fingers, struggling with his mind about what was in front of him. Was she real? Was she here? She wasn't, he could swear. He was just in her memories, watching her Harrowing, watching her face twist in pain as her body fought possession. He could've sworn he saw that, he swore he did….

His mind had wandered, unknowing of who it was that was truly in front of him. "Solas?" A meek voice called out, looking him back in the eyes. "Are you alright?" Her hand reached for his head, her warm fingers pressing against his temple. His eyes closed, lost in the feeling of her skin.

His lips quivered as he spoke, feeling the warmth of her body come closer to his, "Ma vhenan.." He felt the words escape his lips without a second thought, his arms wrapping around her hips, the feel of her back in the mages robes as she closed her distance. He felt her nose rub on his, a light chuckle in her voice.

"Ma lath.." The words whispered from her lips, the feel of those words tingling through his body. Her lips brushed gently against his, a shy kiss, quick and pure in itself. One lacking the passion and need that he had become so accustomed to in his nights as of lately. The woman in his arms was warm and inviting, her kiss stopping as she pulled away. Her warm smile tugging at the corner of her lips as her body turned.

Solas shook his head, grabbing her arm, pulling her back into his grasp. " More." He whispered, pulling her in, his lips meeting hers more savagely. Her breath hitched in surprise as his tongue stroked her bottom lip, fingers running up her back. The mage robes she wore only hindering his need to touch her skin completely.

Her gasp turned to a moan as his tongue stroke again, asking for entrance. He wished so much to feel her body pressed against him. He could feel himself groan as she opened her mouth, allowing him entrance as his tongue stroked against hers. He could feel the sparks from their kiss, the pooling of their magic coming together. His hands grasped at her body, her moans becoming more heated as his hand ran down her back, settling on her backside. "mmmmhm." Her words failed her as she pulled away, Solas's other hand tangling in her hair, pulling her head back as his lips captured the nape of her neck. "Solas" she moaned as his teeth nipped her neck. "Solas, we're...there's people…"

His feet shuffled across the ground, pushing her backwards until her body met the hard wall of the house he occupied. " I don't care." he growled into the nape of her neck, his lips meeting her burning flesh. Adan had turned his candles overlong ago, and there was no torches lit in the area. But the idea of someone seeing him with her, like he had seen with the Templar only spurred him on.

"Solas…" He heard her beg, her back against the wall, her hands caught up in his robes. His hand ran down her backside, pulling a leg free, hooking it over his hip. His hand ran down her leg, pulling up the skirt of her mage robe, exposing her leg to the elements. She gasped at the cold, feeling it creep up her body and through her clothes. Solas was beginning to become lost in the feel of it all, her skin burned under his touch, her moans sweet music to his ears as his free hand had become lost in her robes, trying to find a way to release her from the layers.

"I want to feel you.." He muttered into her skin, her head rolled back hitting the wall as his lips moved down across her collarbone. His manhood grew hard from the feel of her skin alone, but he felt that at this moment he was about to explode. His hands had found their way under her robes. One hand touching her small clothes, his fingers touching the wetness that pooled, sticking to his fingers. His other hand finding his way through the lacing in her top. His hand kneading her breast as his lips met hers again. He could feel her body quake under his touch, as if she was naked in the snow before him.

Her hands moved across his body, digging themselves underneath his robes, feeling his skin against her hands. He groaned in her mouth, his teeth biting her bottom lip as she cried out, just enough to be pleasurable. He growled, feral and deep as his hand moved away from her small clothes, his hand no longer enough. He pressed his body against hers, his manhood grinding against her womanhood, their heat threatening to burn them alive.

His hands grabbed a hold of her hips, her leg now wrapping around him, pressing for more contact. Solas groaned at the feel of her body, and how her hands had wandered his back, her gasps filled with encouragement for his movement. His hands gripped her hips and he ground himself against her, feeling her back arch against his body. Her breath began to quicken, as Solas buried his teeth into her shoulder, remembering what how her body arched, how it quivered. He knew she was close, so close that he began to growls again, his hips grinding harder against her, his breath quickening, his pace losing all control.

He wanted her, more than anything. To be buried deep within her, to feel her clench around him, as she reached her pinnacle. But all the feelings he had were laid out before him, all of his aggression and lust was in his movements, now grinding fully against her small clothes, the wetness seeping in through his britches, the slickness on his manhood only spurred him to seek his completion with her.

Her voice chanted his name, her lips wet and bruised from his savage kisses. Her neck covered in small raised marks from the newly formed hickeys and bruises along her neck. She gasped, and moaned, her leg pressing him further, his voice encouraging him. Her breasts heaved as her back arched again, so close to the edge of infinity she felt, her voice losing all concept of speech. "Sol...Solas...I..I...I'm…" Her head thrashed as he sped up his pace, his completion just as close as he breathed heavily in her ear.

"Ma vhenan..Ma...Vhenan.." His hand grabbed hers, holding it above her head as his lips met hers one last time. He reached the abyss and began to fall into eternity as he groaned out her name in the air, his head thrown back as he felt his seed come forth. He had heard his name escape her lips as she found completion with him. The sticky mess between them didn't bother them as Solas rested his head on hers, closing his eyes. Listening to her breathing slow, her heart beat find itself again. He was complete in her arms, even if he wasn't in her body.

The warmth of her body began to disappear as Solas found himself on the ground, faced with only the stone of the fade. His hand inside his britches, covered in his seed. He tensed, sensing now what he had done. He heard that same voice purr behind him, touching his now exposed chest.

"See what I can give you? See the very power that I have?" The desire demon pressed her body against Solas's back. "But I admit, I enjoyed watching you claim your desire for your own." His mind filled with that seductive voice. " _You want her. You desire her. Then claim her, as you did here. Make the deal, and she will be yours."_

He felt a twinge of embarrassment as he pulled his hand from his britches, still covered in his seed. The desire demon hovered around him, grabbing his hand, "THIS, is your desire, think of the woman who gave you such pleasure." The demon ran her tongue across his hand, drawing in some of Solas's seed. "You cannot deny me my due." Solas jerked his hand from her grasp, wiping the taint of the demon from his hand, and in it the desire she held over him.

"Away demon, I am not some simple prey." Solas stepped back, hand turning to his staff.

"Oh, " The demon shifted in the fade, pressed against Sola's chest, hand running through his opened robe. " But you are…" Her tongue ran along his earlobe, as her free hands touched his bare skin. Solas felt like the demon was trying to enter him, possess him. Her touches were rough, but experienced, knowing how to draw the most out of a victim. " You, cannot deny me.."

Solas's mind felt lost, his body losing control again as he felt the demon trying to claim him. His mind tried to fight his desire, his lust and need for the human Anara. His mind pushed the demon from him, as he fought to suppress his desires. The demon won't win this round. Solas stepped back again, knowing now his limit to the fade, and retreating from it into the physical realm.

His body jerked as he awoken on his bed, his eyes facing the far wall of the house. His body pained and sore, from his trip, his desire spurred on in the light of day, but in the fade he felt he needed to keep himself in check. He feared after thought, if he attracted a desire demon, should he fear Anara being possessed?

He shook his head, not believing the idea of a demon possessing something through projected memories. It seemed that the circle mage had no presence in the fade these past few nights. But instead her presence was felt elsewhere in himself. In a way where he began to doubt and question his own beliefs of everything in the world.

Why a human...Why?

Because humans he thought, were feral compared to elves. The Dalish were so based on tradition, the City elves so oppressed. But humans, were free to their desires and to their hearts and free to the lust and anger that consumed them. But it felt now that, that was what he wanted.

He wanted her rage, her lust, and most of all, her heart more than anything, and it felt so out of reach for him that it burned in him like an insatiable ache.

But these were thoughts that would only haunt his mind. He desperately tried to rally himself, to rise from the depths of his bed to try again, in this new day to see if she was alive after day three.

Solas had regained himself, looking for new clothes. Something less, obvious to what he experienced in the fade. He settled himself once again, preparing to open the door to Haven until he heard the scuffles and a few choice curses from Adan that caused Solas to panic. He opened the door, prepared to see Cassandra there with men ready to take the mages away.

But instead all he saw was the blonde hair, and furred shoulders of Commander Cullen. In his arms, the still and limp body of Anra. Adan ran out the door, curses leaving his lips easily as he tried to follow the Commander, stopped a few feet after the door by his men. Adan continued to call him whatever flowed into his mind. Solas watched as Cullen carried her, like her body weighed nothing. Her arms limp and hanging as he buried her head up into the furs on his shoulders, trying to keep her warm.

As he strode off towards the Chantry Solas began to panic, crossing the distance to Adan.

"Solas, I'm sorry, I tried. But Commander Cullen said,"

"Where is he taking her? She isn't even conscious!" Solas spat in contempt for the Ex-Templar.

"Seeker Pentaghast ordered it Solas. It is beyond our control." Adan seemed to reside himself to fate, looking downward.

"To the void with control!" His arm seemed to flare with magic as his emotions were raised. He suddenly went back to thinking about the fade. Should he have made the deal with the desire demon? Would it have been better to let her reside in his body? Would it have changed anything? He suddenly wished to go back to it all, throw himself at her mercy and beg. But only resisted when he thought more.

No.

It wouldn't have helped. But he finally resided to the fact that he will not be out of control in this situation. His body tensed as he realized what he had to do, and as the Chantry doors closed behind Commander Cullen he knew then what to do.


	4. Chapter 4

Cassandra stood there among the training dummies, watching as Cullen left the Chantry, his walk was slower than she expected. She wondered what was the matter, her orders were simple and he wasn't met with any resistance, but then what was causing the Commander to walk like he was burdened?

"Commander.." She spoke as he walked slouched, like the fur he was wearing was heavier than imagined. As he approached the Seeker, his eyes raising up to meet hers as her eyebrows furrowed. Why was everyone so against her plans?

"It is done, Adan explained that she is still in a delicate state. But she is still of no danger to us, are you sure it is wise to move her under the Chantry?"

"If she stays here, people will begin to think she is normal, that she is a person. That she is not responsible for the events that took our most divine from us. I intend to rectify that. " Her voice lost it's logic as it filled with anger, her attention turning to the training dummies. "Everyone seems to forget that this is her fault. A mage, destroying the conclave, killing the divine and plunging us all into chaos. She must be with the rebel faction, just like the actions at Kirkwall. You were there Cullen, you saw it, do you think she is responsible?"

Cullen looked confused, "Whatever magic she has, she is not able to control it right now, it is muted, quiet at best. But the only magic it seems that is flaring, is coming from the mark on her hand." Cassandra tried to inject her opinion, but Cullen quickly stopped her. "But the mark means nothing until she awakens, recalls her memories, and when we find the truth. Think of what Justinia was trying to accomplish with the conclave, and try to gain the very best of what she was."

With his words Cullen turned away, returning back to his men in the training yard. Cassandra stood there, angered by his words. A mage can be responsible, just as one was responsible for the destruction of the Chantry in Kirkwall, or for blood magic. But she couldn't prove that, and as a Seeker, she couldn't just jump to conclusions anymore. She HAD to find the answers, regardless of the complication, and regardless of her personal feelings. She gripped the pommel of her sword, the shield weighing on her back as she tried to reign in her emotions. Her foot dug into the snow, as she looked towards the Chantry, knowing full well of what awaited her in there.

Her teeth clenched as she took a step, then another, the distance between the doors and her closing. She could feel the earth compact below her feet as she spread across the distances, earth and snow, earth then snow. Her breathing became harder, her mind figuring out the situation, her hand gripping tighter on the pommel. All that came across her mind was Justinia, and the word mage over and over again, spurring on her rage.

Solas ran across the snow, sensing full well the intent of Cassandra. He steps more rapid as he left Adans house, her hand was beginning to reach for the door, feet away, her nostrils flared and her eyebrows furrowed and in that moment Solas stepped in between.

"Cassandra." He said, body coming between her and the door, her mind in another realm. Her eyes shot up, looking the elf in the eyes,

"There must be a reason you are blocking my path." Her annoyance even more obvious in her voice now.

"Cassandra please, understand what you're trying to do." Solas held his hands up in front of him, he knew he was the only person protecting Anara from Cassandra's wrath. "You know that this isn't the right path. You are a Seeker, a seeker of truth!" Cassandras hand moved from the pommel to the hilt, preparing to draw her blade.

"She killed the Divine, our most holy of holies. She must pay for her deceit!" Her voice louder than was intended, she was beginning to draw a crowd of onlookers.

"Cassandra, think about this, is this the kind of example you want to set to these people?" Cassandra looked around, some of the towns folk standing there, watching the scene unfold in front of them. The Chantry sisters stopped their chant of light, watching their seeker's hand grip for her blade. "You don't want to do this, because you don't even know what she's done. You're judging her, without even knowing the truth." Solas was calm on the outside, but his heart was racing, prepared for the idea of having to fight the angered seeker.

Her hand relaxed on the hilt as her eyes calmed down, the harshness in her brow lessening. Her angry frown turned neutral as she thought again about the people that were watching them.

" I suppose you're right...I will give her the benefit of a doubt. But if she's responsible.." her finger came up, pointing accusingly, "There will be no mercy." Cassandra turned away from Solas, returning to the training dummies, separating herself from Solas and the other mage in the holding cells.

Solas let out a sigh of relief as his head hit his chest, shoulders slumped by the enormous weight of that woman's anger. His heart began to slow down finally, the adrenaline in his system slowly stemming off. This situation was escalating beyond a shadow of a doubt. His hands began to feel clammy again as he turned away, expecting Leliana or Cassandra to plunge a dagger into his back. But as his hand came up to the door, he was met with the Commander, standing next to his side.

" That took a lot of courage to stand up to Cassandra. I do not know if I would've done that." Cullen stood there, trying to follow Solas as he opened the door to the Chantry.

"There was nothing else I could do, I couldn't allow Cassandra to murder someone in cold blood, without first her being awake to defend herself." Solas realized that the words sounded worse than what they were. His mouth suddenly wanting to stay shut.

"I don't blame you there, mage or no, a person is allowed their innocence. " They slowly made their distance to the door that led down into the holding cell. Cullen stopped right before the door, tilting his head, looking at Solas, "Do you think she's responsible? Honestly?"

Solas was annoyed and confused by their constant question of her innocence. He wanted to shout from the rooftops about Anara and her innocence. That she wasn't responsible, that she is kind and sweet and loving. That she passed her Harrowing, resisted a pride demon and instilled such emotion in his heart. That she made him, HIM fall head over heels for a human. But Solas only stood there, trying to remain neutral as his mind screamed all the things he wanted to say. "I believe she is innocent, but I won't know until she wakes up."

Cullen nodded, "Of course, well then. I should let you go, the accommodations down there aren't as great as Adans, but remember. The situation was out of my hands, but it seems you've regained some footing in it." Cullen turned from Solas "Good luck." He heard him mutter as he continued walking, making his way back outside to the recruits.

Solas's hand reached for the door, the heavy wood pressed against his hand as it gave way for him. He hated the holding cells, too dark, too cold, too wet, he knew these weren't conditions conducive to one's survival. But he had to resist the urge to chime in his opinions every single time they weren't asked for.

He reached the long hallway that lead to the cells, the lights burning lowly between each arch. God he hated it in here, a straw bed and a bucket, with maybe some light. No, he didn't like it here, and he was glad that Cassandra didn't throw him down here as well. At the end of the hall a guard stood by the cell door, noticing Solas walking towards him.

"Only those under Seeker Pentaghast or Commander Cullens orders are allowed here."

Solas held up a hand, "I was allowed here by Commander Cullen, she is still very sick, and I need to perform tests."

The guard seemed standoffish, trying to decide whether the mage was telling the truth or not, he gripped his hilt. "Why should I believe you?"

"Ask your Commander if you wish, or should I?" Solas didn't enjoy idle threats, especially making them. He felt as if he was an adult chastising a small child for breaking something. It was not a feeling he enjoyed.

The man seemed to ease up, his hand moving off the hilt, "Alright then, I guess if the Commander says so.."

Solas watched the guard open the cell door, standing next to the opened door. "Please," Solas said, "Can you help bring her out?"

The guard looked confused, "Out? Out where?" The guard was backtracking in his manner, beginning to become defensive again.

Solas pointed to the small rotunda just outside the cell, "Just here, I need space to move."

The guard still looked uneasy, but resigned to helping anyways. Both men carried her out, setting her down on the floor. Solas kneeled down next to her as he ran his hand back over hers, feeling for the mark and it's progression. Today it was moving up past her elbow, moving further into her bicep. Now whenever the Breach expanded more of her arm would flare and jerk in response.

He was at a loss at this point, but the only thing he could conclude after so much time studying both the breach and her mark was, that both were created by magic. Powerful magic, but he felt in his mind that this mark was a key, perhaps the key to their success and salvation. Perhaps then that means this mark could possibly seal the Breach and the rifts that have begun to appear. But it was all the theory at this point, hopefully one he'll test when she should awaken.

His bones ached after he spent so much time hunched, feeling the flow of magic in her, knowing that right now it laid dormant and muted, just as she did. But he pushed through his aches as he struggled with what he felt was a necessary thing.

"Excuse me..." Solas looked up at the younger man slouched against the wall, his mind aimlessly wandering. He snapped back into place as he heard Solas, suddenly giving him all of his attention. Solas continued after he was sure to have the guards attention, "I'm going to need you to leave, only for a moment."

He looked suspiciously at Solas, wondering what kind of strange sneaky mage things he was up to. Solas tilted his head, "I of course will need you to guard the door leading in here. But I promise that I am not planning anything sinister." The guard seemed uncertain, "I promise." Solas seemed to have to reiterate again, trying to create some trust between him and the guard.

The man shuffled, looking about the hallway, finally deciding to follow the mages word. He walked slowly, turning around ever so often to ensure that Solas didn't become transparent, or turn them into birds or some other mage-like nonsense.

Solas sat on his knees, pulling Anara towards him, her head resting in his lap her closed eyes pointed at the ceiling, her breath was steady and quiet. Solas's hands came up, barely touching her, he felt his magic converse with hers, feeling the soft tickle of her hair as his hands moved to her temple. He took a deep breath, centering himself and his magic as his fingers touched her skin, sending a jolt through him. Her magic coalesced with his, as his body bridged them mentally.

Solas figured that this was the easiest way to access her memories, to be able to control what he could see, and what he can suppress. He only wished to know more of the situation outside her memories that flowed in the Fade. Outside the possibility of becoming possessed by a desire demon. It felt like a desperate attempt at producing results. But he needed to get answers to the Breach and to what light she could shed. But it was jumbled. A mess of emotions and memories, flashes of the circle, and her home. Of her family, of trees and birds, or horses and rocks. It was all a stumble, an attempt to grip onto something. This was not something Solas knew how to do, but he had heard about it from spirits, friends that he had made within the fade.

He resisted the urge to flare his magic, to push further into her mind. Not knowing what that kind of action would do to her, instead he calmed his magic, allowing her to become apart of him.

As he calmed himself the images gained more clarity, still a mess of emotions, but they were clearer. With it, he began to feel her emotions, and see clearly the memories she possessed.

He tried to let her lead, let her show him what she wanted. But it was still fragmented, he could hear voices talk, and what he felt was an image of the circle. The tower was tall and foreboding, intimidating those unknown to it. His eyes fell to a small child standing there, her brown hair tied into a braid. Those brown eyes red with tears, her cheeks stained with salt. A Templar beside her, his face imposing and emotionless. A banner flew in the distance of a horse. Then it was gone, memories flooding, replacing one with another.

The circle was quiet, but there were shouts and angered grunts. Solas was confused, by the dramatic change in tempo. Years would jump from one section to another, a happy memory, a sad one, then an angry one, or a fearful one. It seemed that she held more sorrow and anger in her mind and life then she held joy. Something Solas wished that he could rectify, that he could reach into her spirit and pull all the bad, the corrupt, the evil out. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. Because it was these moments of sadness and anger that brought him closer to her, and closer to loving her.

Her hands braced up as a sword came crashing down, knocking her backwards to the ground, "Come Rabbit. You can't best me. " Solas grimaced internally, her circles Knight-Commander, her face seemed older now, by a year or so. The Commander reflected the same age growth, white hairs beginning to peak around his ears. Her anger only more evident now than it was last night, she had changed in some way and Solas knew it. "You knew this was going to happen Rabbit. Ever since the Harrowing, you are mine."

A loud crack came down upon the Templar's leg as she knocked him in the knee with her staff. He howled falling to the ground. She stood over him, triumphant as his concentration fell, no longer able to suppress her magic. He became enraged, angered from her strike against him. He reared up, grabbing her by the scruff of her robes, pushing her against a bookshelf, pressing his body against her. "This, was going to happen Rabbit, one way or another." His hand broke free, trying to unbuckle his britches. Solas cringed, his mind screamed at what was before him.

_No, he thought, No not this, not to her…_

The Knight-Commander pulled himself loose from his britches, his ego and power over Anara made him hard. He purred into her ear, "Oh Rabbit, I've been waiting for this."

_No, no, no, please no…_ Solas tried to scream in her memories, but there was no avail. He watched as Anara reached her hand up the Knight-Commanders back, Her eyes pierced him as her hands touched his skin.

" My name, is Anara, Anara Trevelyan. Not. RABBIT!" Her hands clenched onto his body as he screamed, howling like a dying creature as his body began to jerk. He fell to the floor, spasming as she stood over him, "You let your guard down Knight-Commander. While I have you alive, know this. Next time you even THINK of my name, know the mercy that I gave you, maker knows you wouldn't have spared any for me." Her foot came crashing into his side, the wind being knocked out of him. " But now, you'll never be able to hurt anyone in this circle again." Her fingers sparked, the last runs of lightning stemming off as the magic faded. She smirked, knowing full well the damage and affect her magic had wrought.

Solas began to calm finally, the fear that occupied his heart began to fade. Her memories faded once again, he knew now the darkness that her mind had, but he knew too the joy that it contained as well. He only wished to add more to those memories. Solas stood there in the silence now that occupied her mind. Wondering what new memory he would see. But nothing came.

He had forgotten how foreboding silence was in ones mind. How bleak and hollow it felt when there was nothing to hold you, or keep you in ground. Solas became curious about this situation, never coming across it before. He felt like a person who crossed over into another realm, or into a new land of unfamiliarity. He didn't know how to act, or react anymore, still expecting a bleakness to this bridge he guessed, the bridge that he created between them. He closed his eyes, trying to think of Anara, in hopes that it'd help summon her to him. His mind focused, as did his magic as he tried, her name upon his lips, figuratively. The aching silence between them both seemed to echo for eternity, Solas desperately wanted an answer, and never expected one.

"Do I know you?" A feminine voice spoke, Solas spun around towards the sound of that voice, trying to locate it. Solas felt a rush of relief knowing that her mind had not faded into oblivion, but hoped in his heart and mind that it was her. He could feel his heart stop for a brief moment as his eyes fell upon her. She stood there, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively at him, her hair braided, hands clasped around the front. Her noble roots still shone through in those small queues Solas admitted. He tried to hold himself back as he looked at her. He wanted to run to her, hold her close, to kiss her deeply and bring her back to the world only to have her forever. He wanted to keep her as his, greedily have her, and protect her from everything the world had. From Cassandra, Cullen, from mages, and demons, from everything. But he had to come back to this moment, looking at the woman standing in front of him.

"Well?" The question came from her lips as she tilted her head at him, hoping a repeat of the question would jog his memory. "You called for me, by my name. So I ask, Do I know you?" He didn't know how to respond, he certainly didn't want to blurt out what he felt.

_No don't tell her about the dreams._ He stammered, uncertain of what to say, his mind wandered too much and she knew it.

"Something bad has happened, hasn't it." Her questions were to the point, she didn't waste her time trying to be diplomatic, " What happened?" She approached Solas, his body trying not to react to her closing distance. He didn't want to frighten her, or push her away.

"I, I can't quite say, it'd be easier if you came with me." Solas was at a loss of words at this point. Hoping that action would be the only redeeming quality right now. He held out a hand, looking her in the eyes as she hesitated. "You need to wake up Anara, the world is different…"

Her eyebrows furrowed as she seemed to move closer, looking at the hand outstretched to her. Hoping that it wasn't a mirage, or some trick of the fade. Her hand reluctantly moved towards his, her fingers touching his hand.

His heart beat faster, feeling her hand on his, trusting him with his magic, with his abilities. She stepped closer, looking uncertain into his eyes, "Do I know you…" She was no longer asking the question, but instead searching for an answer. Her free hand reached out, touching his forehead as his eyes closed.

_Oh no._

Her hand pulled back, a shocked gasp in her breath as her hand pulled away from his temple she looked him in the eyes.

_Oh please, don't know what I've seen. What I've felt._

She moved closer to him, still searching his face for embarrassment.

_Oh please don't know._

She inched closer, her hand still in his, her body coming closer to Solas as he tried to hold himself still, trying not to panic, or grab a hold of her. Solas could feel the heat from her body as her hand escaped his grip. Both hands rested on his chest, as she stood on her toes, lips inching closer to Solas's. He held his breath, was this real? Was it a lie? Was he losing his mind in here? He couldn't tell anymore, and at this point, he didn't care anymore. His hands wrapped around the small of her back, feeling her inch closer, feeling the heat between them both rise, her eyes were slowly closing, and he matched in reaction.

Her lips brushed against his, only words leaving her lips. "I trust you…"

Her lips touched his, feeling their magic pooling as they kissed, feeling the grip of their bridge begin to fade. Solas gripped the small of her back tighter as he tried to deepen the kiss. He had wished for those lips, dreamed of them, wanted them on his. This moment, although feeling like the breaking of a spell was everything he had wanted, and he didn't want to let it go.

His hand ran up her back, the other tangled in her hair as her arms twisted over his shoulders, letting him deepen their connection. Magic he knew was a tricky thing, but the connection between them had to be made, so he could drag her back into the physical. So he could kiss her in real life, and hope that she would return his kisses.

Solas could feel his grip between them fade as everything turned to white. His eyes slowly opened, back to the unwelcoming sight of the holding cells. His eyes struggling with darkness, the torches looking unbearably bright. He heard voices nearby.

"What do you think he was doing?" He heard the distinct, judgmental voice of Cassandra. Solas's eyes adjusted, looking over to see Cassandra standing there with her hand upon her sword's hilt. "Solas!" Her voice became angered as he looked over at her, "By the maker what have you done!?"

He seemed confused, looking over at Commander Cullen standing next to her, Leliana right behind and the young guard he was talked to. All of their attention wasn't on him, but instead on the body he had with him.

His eyes crossed the room to look where everyone's attention was. He looked down at Anara, her face beaded in sweat as her teeth gritted, the mark on her hand flared in what Solas thought must've been excruciating agony. Her free hand gripped his hand as she bit back screams of pain. Solas could feel her magic begin to surge. The pain was becoming too much for her to handle, and too much for her to reign in her magic.

He felt the flow of magic in her body build up, threatening to spill over. Solas tried to calm her mentally, his hand on her temple. She had awakened to a different world than what she left, with strange and horrible magic burned into her body. Solas could sense that his work wasn't helping, there was too much pain, she had lost days of her memory. That in her awakening, the last thing she remembered was the warm embrace of her old lover, under the stars. Tears spilled over her cheeks, it seemed like inside her heart she knew of his demise, and possibly the demise of all those at the Conclave. Solas looked up at the Ex-Templar, "Cullen." He didn't know what else to say past that, didn't know how to warn them. His eyes seemed lost and confused as Cullen seemed to comprehend the situation, he seemed to take a step back, sensing the wild magic in Anra's body struggling for control.

As Solas tirelessly tried to reel her back in her body gave in. The mark seemed to flare, it's magic imbuing with hers, it's effect threatening to destroy them and the Chantry. She couldn't hold it back anymore, her pain and grief spilling over into the world as she let out a long, strangled cry into the holding cells. Veilfire beginning to consume and ignite.


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy 2015 everyone, sorry for the delay. It's been super busy suddenly and I JUST got engaged, so I'm still riding the high of it right now. Thank you for your patience and your support! :D**

Solas panicked, he had no way to remedy the situation, as he felt the heat from the veilfire. Fear overtook him as well, his instinct telling him to run. He knew in this moment that this wasn't the answer or the reaction that Cassandra was seeking. She wanted nothing to do with Anara, and the flaring of her magic didn't seem to help the situation.

He felt the fire's heat, if only for a moment, wondering if this was what Andraste felt in her last moments. But as quickly as the green flames overran them both they were snuffed.

Their magic was being suppressed, a silencing aura filled the area, the air felt thicker now as a mage. The Commanders templar abilities were still formidable. Despite the crushing feeling of Cullens power over his magic, Solas felt glad that The Commander could comprehend the situation. Solas was grateful, but still unhappy with what had happened. His eyes avoided Cassandras as he looked down, his fingers wiping away the tears that began to freely flow from Anara's eyes. It seemed she had an idea of what happened all along, but could recall none of it.

"Solas." Cassandra spoke through gritted teeth. "Outside, now." She looked at Cullen, "Commander, you stay here and keep...keep her silenced. We don't need a repeat of the Conclave." She looked over at Solas, who seemed completely absorbed in the welfare of the woman in his lap regardless of what just happened.

"Solas.." Leliana spoke, fearless but curious of the mage on the floor. "You need to let her go."

Solas turned his head, looking through Cassandra, he wanted nothing to do with the warrior. A Pentaghast were good for only two things. Dragon hunting and military expansion, and he needed neither of those right now.

" Promise me she won't be harmed." Solas made it a habit now of making deals, trying to broker one thing to another, trying to ensure Anara's safety.

"We promise, nothing will come to harm her. Please Solas." Leliana spoke, he didn't know whether to trust her. She was a bard, not just a singing minstrel, but an Orlesian bard, one with a barb tongue and daggers to her back. Solas began to feel conflicted, not knowing really who to trust.

But he looked at Cullen, the man stood there, hand upon the pommel of his blade. Unmoved and indifferent to the situation. He was more focused on his ability then of truths or lies. But he knew with Cullens experience as a Templar, that he could trust him out of everyone else. Solas knew that, and as much as he hated that reasoning he resigned to the idea of following the two women.

"Of course." Solas spoke, his eyes closing as he nodded, fingers moving off Anara's cheeks. Gently lifting her up, her eyes looked heavy and unsure. She pulled her knees to her chest as she buried her face, how Solas remembered such a sight in her fragmented memories. How she would always hide her face in sadness than allowing it to show.

Solas reluctantly sat up, still looking at the woman sitting on the floor. He stepped towards Cassandra who looked angrier than normal. Her head motioned outside, letting Solas leave on his own accord. When Solas walked out of earshot she turned to Cullen, "I want her hands restrained, and a Templar in here at all times. To ensure that this...incident doesn't happen again. " She left Cullen to his decision as Leliana and Solas left, Cassandra following behind.

Cullen nodded, understanding what Cassandra wanted, he knew that she had an air of caution about her, especially in this situation, but a Templar was good enough, no need for restraints. But he figured in light of recent actions, he supposed there was validity in her caution. He motioned to the guard, " We will need some stocks and a Templar, if there's any left.." Cullen didn't let his concentration wane, he knew that she was a danger, if not for her magic, then for the mark inside her.

But despite all his instincts telling him of abominations and apostates Cullen softened himself just alittle. He took his duty to the maker, to Cassandra and to this cause too seriously sometimes. He was looking across at a woman no older than her mid twenties clutching at her legs, her chin upon her knees as she stared into the floor. Cullen didn't like what felt like eras of awkward silence between them, he figured there should be an attempt at civility before the stocks arrive. "What's your name?" Was the only unfortunate question he could think of.

The silence seemed to continue, as he tried to determine if the woman was mute, or if the explosion caused her to become deaf. He didn't know really how to approach the situation now. If he was still in Kirkwall he'd have taken a different approach, perhaps just like he did with Wilmod. But those times were behind him, like Meredith, like Kirkwall, like the circle tower in Kinloch Hold. He thought deeply about those times, those things that set him apart from the person that he was now. So much has changed in those years, in yet here he stood, still trying to coax answers from a mage.

He thought so much into his past that he barely heard a word coming from across the room. He shook his mind from his past as he looked at the woman across the room. Her eyes still staring into the floor. "Pardon?" Was the only thing that Cullen could think of saying, the only thing that came to mind, it was polite, right?

Her eyes blinked, mouth slightly opened as words struggled from her lips. "Anara.." Her voice was weak and cracked, Cullen remembered she had been asleep for three days and under watchful eyes. She cleared her throat, trying to coax more words from herself. " Anara..Trevelyan..Enchanter to the Circle in Ostwick, Aequitarian…"

Cullen looked at her, her eyes still on the floor, like she was avoiding eye contact with him. Her words seemed rehearsed, like she had said it many times before. He wondered if she knew who he was, what he had done, or the things that he's seen. He figured that it was just conditioning to her time in the Circle, to their Knight-Commander, to her plight as a mage and perhaps what she knew from the Conclave. He couldn't quite put his finger on it about this mage, mentally she seemed no different. She wasn't completely standoffish, but not defiant to his presence. Her magic wasn't aggressive, or defensive, just passive to his Templar abilities. If he didn't know any better he'd feel that she was a Loyalist, fearful of the idea of there being no Circle, no Templars, no structure.

"You're wrong." He heard her say, his eyes passing back over to her. Her temperament seemed to change, her body language different. She wasn't sheltering herself anymore, but instead remained open to the world around her. Her voice no longer seemed meek, or cracked. It seemed that she was finally coming about her wits.

"You're wrong, I am no Loyalist, but I am no Libertarian either. Knight-Captian.."

Cullen's mind was in a panic, Knight-Captain, how did she know? He was brought back by her ability, perhaps she was perceptive, perhaps she could read minds. Perhaps she was corrupted by demons. Cullen became fearful of the idea that a pride demon sat inside her, waiting. He wanted answers, needed to know how and why she found out so easily about him.

"Your face.." Her eyes making contact with his. " Your face gave it away. You hold yourself high, but you have something dark in you." His eyebrows furrowed, confused by her observations.

"I was apart of the circle since I was a child. I know the power of Templars, of Knight-Captains, and Knight-Commanders. Just as much as I know their thoughts and gaze" Her eyes went back to the floor it seemed she was beginning to know her fate here, as the guard rushed in with a Templar.

"Commander, this is the only Templar that willingly volunteered." Her back straightened, as the Templar stepped forward. His gaze was malicious, compared to Cullens, his hand upon the hilt of his blade, prepared for a fight. Cullen seemed to sense that between the Mage and the Templar, he stood in between.

" She is of no danger, you can stand down." The Templars gaze didn't falter, Cullen could sense the tension he had with the woman.

"She is a mage sir, and mages were responsible for what happened at Kirkwall."

"We are NOT in Kirkwall." Cullens patience running thin. "You are dismissed."

"Commander?" The Templar looked up at Cullen, his face angered and serious. "A mage cannot be left alone." He defied Cullens orders, his back straightening, trying to appear taller.

" I will stand guard then." Cullen's face grew dark in rage at the man in front of him. "You. Are. Dismissed."

The Templar turned on his heel, walking out the door, mumbling to himself, calling Cullen a mage sympathiser among other things.

As his adrenaline calmed down he turned from the door, looking back at Anara. "You're safe now, I promise. What happened at the Circle will not happen here."

Her eyes passively looked over him, trying to decide if she should trust him, "We are not in Kirkwall Commander, just as we are not in Ostwick. But I thank you." She stared down at her hands, as the door opened to the holding cells, Haven's smith walking in.

"Took us awhile, but we've found the stocks. It's been awhile since Haven had criminals. " The blacksmith was taken aback looking at Anra sitting there, awake as she just held her arms out.

" I understand." Was all she said as Cullen took the stocks, locking them over her wrists. She closed her eyes, accepting the actions that it seemed everyone already judged her for.

Cassandra stood outside The Chantry with Solas, her anger boiling over, "What did you expect to happen?" Her arms raised in anger as she questioned his motives.

" I had no expectations, we needed her awake. We need to study the mark and The Breach. How do you expect that to happen when she's unconscious?" Solas's patience was beginning to wear thin with Cassandra. She wanted too much from him with very little effort being put on her part. " Or did you expect others to do all the work for you?"

"You dare…" She stepped forward, finger pointing to his chest. "I have been out there, slaying demons coming from the breach and you say such things? If the Divine was here.."

"But she's not, she's dead along with the rest of the Conclave. You want answers, and I am trying to provide them, but I cannot without her being awake."

Cassandra looked at Solas, her face displeased with the idea, but accepting of it. She grimaced at the bluntness of his words, "She will be your charge then Solas, what she does is your responsibility." Cassandra turned from him, resigning from their heated debate, She paused near the training grounds. "But first Solas, you will go with Varric and the recruits up the mountain to The Breach." She seemed to smile inward to herself for her apparent stroke of genius. Keep him away from the mage, and she should be easier to question. Yes, it seemed that was the thought that was passing through Cassandras mind.

Solas hated her idea, The Breach and it's power interrupted his dreams and made walking in the fade more difficult. His teeth clenched, remaining neutral on the outside to the Seekers new prospect for him.

"Of course." He gave some attempt at a nod as he walked away towards his room, the distance between him and the door seemed impossibly far. As he shut the door behind him Solas gave an angry shout, his magic flaring outward, knocking over an end table, flipping a book and knocking trinkets off of shelves. Usually he was in control of not only himself but of his magic, His emotions ran high now since that fateful night in her memories. All he cared about now was the woman sitting in the holding cells, all he wanted was her. He calmed himself, resigning to what Cassandra had planned for him. He hated the idea of leaving her here with the Seeker and the Templar Commander, but he begrudgingly accepted it, allowing himself to leave his room, to leave Haven.

The snow was cold on his feet, his staff and small pack on his back. His robes were layered, prepared for the bitter cold that was awaiting him up in the mountains. His eyes looked over to the Chantry as the gate began to shut behind him and Varric. He didn't want to step away, he didn't want to leave, but as Adan had told him many times, it was out of his hands. Regardless of how much he wanted to fight it, it was out of his hands.

" Ma vhenan, dareth…Ma'arlath.." The words seemed to whisper from his lips, the doors finally closed. He had hoped that his words had reached her, had stirred within her heart and her mind. He had hoped to use his connection with her after their bridge. But he feared that the magic had faded, that she wouldn't remember their kiss that pulled her from oblivion. He hoped that she still felt it, that they were still connected, that she knew his words. "Dareth.." The words rolled from his lips, hoping that she remained safe in the hands of the Commander. Hoping that he can truly trust the the Ex-Templar. His mind began to wander again, his mind dwelling on the kiss he shared, and the kisses that he wished to share in the future.

"You ok Chuckles? You seem...Broody" Varric was ignoring the small band of recruits that traveled ahead of them.

" I am alright Varric, my mind was..Somewhere else." Solas looked up in the sky, looking towards the breach.

"Oh? Tell me all the details Chuckles. Spare no description." Varric seemed like he was prodding for a new story to write.

" I think Not Varric, my life isn't a story for some pages." Varric looked over at Solas.

" All lives are meant for the pages of a book Chuckles. Why should yours be any different?"

Solas bowed his head, "I have seen things not meant for a book Varric. " His eyebrows furrowed, knowing full well the things he's seen and experienced in the fade. As well as things that he's seen and experienced in the fade that he would never want to tell Varric about.

The small group crossed over the bridge, Haven in the distance as they ascended the mountain. Night was beginning to fall, the darkness spreading through the distance. The Breach spread streaks of green across the sky, like a fatal warning to the world. Solas could feel it's magic and it's pull to him as they got closer, looking for camp.

The snows thickened as the darkness grew, Varric looked down at Bianca, shining her trigger, checking the mechanisms. Solas sat close to the fire, keeping himself warm as he looked at the ground, his mind trying to wander into the fade. The magic here was busy, the veil thin and the Breach expanding. He didn't know whether or not he'd be able to find her in the fade tonight. He didn't know if he should anymore after what had happened earlier that day.

She could've destroyed everything, killed them all and even herself in a storm of veilfire. What he had done, trying to bring her back from her slumber, backfired. She was not prepared for the memories flooding in, for the pain left by the mark. It had consumed her, and in that she lost control of what was inside of her.

He feared what would happen if they met in the Fade tonight.

Would she hate me? For doing this? For bringing her to this?

Solas had no answer, his mind far away from the group that gathered near the temple. He had so many questions to ask, so many thoughts and feelings that he had to go through. That he had to feel, but he couldn't dismiss them, couldn't dismiss the guilt that he felt when he saw tears streaming from her eyes.

Oh those sweet brown eyes crying, how her face seemed to twist in pain. He wondered if he'd ever be able to forgive himself. He couldn't find the answers anymore, he didn't want to dwell on it. All it did was make him feel worse about it, and that brought on a headache.

" I bid you goodnight, I'm retiring for the night." Solas interrupted Varric telling a story around the fire. Their attention was solely upon the dwarf who seemed annoyed by the interruption.

" You're about the miss the best part Chuckles. I was about to get to the smutty bit between Hawke and Fenris. You know Fenris right, he's another broody elf that I knew. " Varric seemed to take a jibe at him, " Alright Chuckles, alright. But I'm not going to retell this part to you. You'll have to read about…"

Solas shook his head as he stepped away from the fire, listening to Varric in the background, "Anyways, Hawke came home to find Fenris there, his lyrium marks practically glowing…"

He reached his tent, opening it up to his small pack and staff laying there besides his cot. The furs of august rams and cotton making sleep look much more appealing. He sat down on his cot, his back hunched over as he rest his elbows on his knees. Cradling his face in his hands, he rubbed the worry lines on his temple and between his brow. His eyes felt heavier, feeling the pull of the fade draw him in, like a warm body. He gave up resisting the need, his body pulling the furs around himself. Hoping not to find a desire demon still waiting for him in the fade.

Her body had given up after being under Templar guard for so long, the only words from her mouth being, "Yes Knight-Captain." or "No, Knight-Captain." It seemed like she was beginning to become infuriating to most Templars. But not to him.

He knew that she had suffered at the hands of Templar rule. He knew that Ostwick wasn't the best Circle in the Free Marches. It had a long history of corruption, and Templar abuse, some worse than others. He knew through her queues that she had been trained in her answers, that they had been beaten into her, or coaxed through Lyrium. Cullen couldn't figure out how, or why any Templar would commit such acts, but he only need to remind himself of Kinloch Hold and what happened all those years ago to remember why people do such things.

Her eyes had shut, her body on the floor of the room that Cullen still guarded. No Templar was stupid enough to take any watch duty, and those that did were not the Templars he needed in this situation. Cullen hit the back of his head against the wall, all he knew was her name, her circle and her mage fraternity. She wasn't willing to give up anymore information beyond that.

He watched her sleep, her face relaxing and softening. The tears that ran down her face still stained her cheeks, sun freckles across the bridge of her nose. She had a round face and curly brown hair that fell across her face. Cullen tried not to stare at her, she was asleep, thank the maker. But regardless make she was pretty, but he needed to push that aside, she was a mage after all, and it was his duty...Was...WAS…..

He had forgotten that he wasn't a Templar anymore...He was a Commander….NOT. A. TEMPLAR..

His power waned as he struggled to stay awake. His head rested against the wall, his sword resting upon his shoulder, eyes finally giving over to sleep.

" Ma vhenan, dareth…ma'arlath.." Solas could hear his words repeat again and again as he entered the fade, " Ma'arlath." Solas spun, looking around the fade in confusion. He suddenly wondered if some greater force was mocking him. The words repeating, "Ma'arlath." Solas didn't like the idea of demons or spirits knowing and holding his true feelings, or to use them against him. He didn't like it, and being in the fade unfortunately left you to their will.

" Do you still call to me? Even after our bridge?" Solas turned again, the voice loud and clear, as if it was booming from the sky above him. He was confused, and scared at the same time, fearing the woman he loved was truly responsible for the Conclave. He heard light steps behind him. " Do you think I couldn't hear it? That I wouldn't understand?"

Solas turned around, to see Anara walking down stone carved stairs, her magic reaching out and causing ripples in the fade. She looked clean, noble and strong. Like all identity with her being a mage was stripped away, almost as if she was born again in the fade. Solas couldn't help but approach, her magic, her physicality, how her back straightened when she walked. He was drawn to her, like a moth to a flame he felt her approach, as he felt his heart quicken.

"I did not know if you heard me..I did not know that you'd understand.." They slowly began to close their distance as her feet left the last step, touching the ground around them. Her cloak and dress dragging along the ground. Her steps getting closer, Solas began to feel his breath quicken. This wasn't a memory, this wasn't a dream he created. She was here, in the fade with him. "But you did...You heard it...You understood it.."

She nodded as Solas reached out, his hand out, pulling her close. "Ma vhenan'ara." He couldn't hesitate, nor hold himself back any longer. She was alive, awake, and right here, right now in the fade with him. "Ma vhenan'ara.."


	6. Chapter 6

Solas pulled her close, reveling in the closeness of their bodies. Each time he saw her in the fade it felt like an eternity since he truly saw her. He only wished to give her the same attention in real life that he gave her in the fade, but it seemed impossible at this moment where she was.

Solas became lost in his thoughts, for a brief moment forgetting about the woman in his arms. She set her temple against his chest as he breathed, smelling the scent of her hair, his eyes closing. She was so close, and wished for her to be with him in his tent, in his arms and under the covers, cuddled close to his chest. He wished for the feel of her soft skin and warm smile set upon his lips. He ached for her, but knew at this point that their meetings in the fade will never be enough to sate him.

He pressed his lips against her forehead, "I have dreamed of this, but now that it is here, I wish only for more…" She looked up into his eyes, a fire within him burning. "I have claimed you, loved you and taken you so many times in my dreams. I have been tempted by desire demons for you, and now that you're awake. I want nothing more than the reality behind it."

She looked confused by Solas's admissions, his hands cupped her face, as he pressed his temple against hers. "I have seen your memories Vhenan, I have walked your dreams and I have felt your heart. I have done all of these things and I want more." He didn't know how to approach it anymore, but the promise of better. "Meet me in the mountains Vhenan, and I will give you all of me, and more.." His words dripped like warm honey, her breath hitched in the back of her throat. Feeling his arms sneak under her cloak, touching her arms. She felt the slight tingle of electricity run across her skin. He wished for more in the flesh, but in this moment they were in the fade. Where there was no judgement, no loss, and no memory of the mark.

She gasped at the feeling as it ran through her body, her need to meet in the flesh seemed less important than the feeling she was having now. Her voice growled, as Solas leaned in for a kiss. Her head tilted back, exposing her neck to his eager lips. His kisses were warm and inviting, still leaving a tingle in each ones absence. She barely knew his name, only meeting him early in the day when he had pulled her from her slumber. She didn't know him, but it didn't matter. The ache she felt in her heart from all those dead seemed to disappear like each fleeting kiss.

Solas could feel his resolve slipping away. All the times in the fade he had felt her lips, had tasted her skin, he knew that those moments would never compare to real life. But he knew that she was under the watchful gaze of Haven. He had to be patient, had to wait for his chance, wait for the town and Cassandra to know how wrong their decision was. He had to wait it out, if he wanted to feel her in the flesh again. Outside the gentle touches and caresses, outside his search for the mark in her arm. Those weren't meaningful in his mind, they were purely academic. Maybe. Solas couldn't quite put his finger on why he considered it as that. He had to shake himself out of this random deep thoughts, but instead into the present, to what was right in front of him. His hands tangled in hers as he rested his temple back against hers. He had to reel himself in, and fast, the sweet sounding sigh that Anara gave when he stopped his kisses, resting his head against hers. He could feel the magic between them form and combine, either attracting or repelling demons, that was for another debate, but not now.

He had closed his eyes, feeling her relax into him, trusting his strength to keep her in place. Her fingers unlaced from his, her fingers tracing his chest, running across his collarbone. She looked fascinated with his skin, how it felt, Solas could understand her fascination and he sighed to her touch. His lips pressed against her forehead, delivering a tender kiss as he struggled with his words.

"Vhenan, I promise that I will see you soon. That this, all of this, will not be in vain. " He could feel her move in his arms, as they wove around the small of her back. Pulling her closer, he smiled against her skin. Perhaps he thought, this is what humans considered as love. They're wild tempest of emotions could burn hot and cool quickly. Like the smithing of a blade, they burned, cooled and hammered away at the pieces. Until all that was left was a single set of perfection.

Perhaps this is what he was missing in his life. He could feel it, the kind of fiery passion and what he called love in his heart. But he didn't know how to say it, how to confirm what he was truly feeling. He could say it in Elven, but he never expected her to know the words. To hear them in her head, to hold them close, he never expected that. Perhaps it frightened him, perhaps he wasn't completely used to it yet, but he was slowly becoming more and more open to it. To a human, to another mage, to an outsider to the world around them. He knew if continued down this path there would be no turning back, that he would fall in love with this woman…

"Vhenan…" His hand pulled her chin up, looking her in the eyes, his words struggled as he stared into the brown depths. His other hand reflexively pulling strands away from her face, "Vhenan, You need to wake up. Find me in the mountains.." He pressed his lips gently against hers as her hands clenched on his tunic. Feeling the rush between their bodies as Solas broke them from the fade, ending their connection.

Anara shot up from the floor, a loud exasperate gasp leaving her mouth. She looked around the room, she couldn't tell the difference in time, only one burning Brazier nearby. She could still feel the repression coming from a nearby Templar, but not as strongly. Her eyes studied the room, until they fell upon the sleeping form of Cullen. His back against the wall as he braced his sword, his head seemed to loll back and forth, periodically snapping up.

She sat up on her knees, looking down at the stocks on her hands. The pain from the mark had lessened, she was in more control now then she was just the other day. Her magic was suppressed, but she was in control of it, she felt no danger of it spilling over. She looked around again, trying to assess the situation, Cullen tried to keep himself awake but failed. His Templar abilities waning with each failed attempt. She pitied him, a Knight-Captain forced to watch over another mage, another apostate. She felt his abilities weaken once again, as she felt not only her magic grow, but the magic of the mark as well.

Her eyes had issue adjusting now, she felt the magic in the mark flare, causing her hand to jerk, the fingers becoming uncomfortably stiff. The flash of green light filled the room, alarming Cullen from his slumber. He braced his sword, expecting the worst but instead saw her gritting her teeth in pain. Beyond the feel of the mark Cullen sensed no other magic trying to cause havoc.

There was a loud clatter outside, the sound of voices, and armor clanging just outside. Anara braced for the incoming swaths of people, expecting groups of Templar's, but instead blinded by the morning sun as bodies poured into the room. She was confused by the state of the world around her suddenly, swords being drawn and pointed at her. As if she were a rabid dog ready to be put down. She hated the notion of it, Ferelden loved dogs..

As the blades stood there, ready to mark the floor with her blood the door opened again. Met with a short haired warrior and a cloaked thief. Cassandra and Leliana made their entrance, and it was Cassandras turn with their captured apostate.

Cassandra slowly paced around the mage, the blades drawn back. Anara could feel her magic become more suppressed, but the Templar that had watched her was not in his prime at this moment. She feared that there was another Templar in the room.

Leliana stepped closer, Cassandra to her back. Anara began to panic internally, she couldn't use her magic, she could feel the eyes of everyone in the room upon her. She didn't know what to do, how to act and the only thing she could think of was _Yes, Knight-Captain._ Cassandra leaned over her shoulder, talking to the whole room.

"Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now? The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead." Her feet kept in pace as she walked around to Anara's front, her hand pointing accusingly at her. "Except for you." Cassandra's words were intimidating. Anara began to recoil back from her hand, she could feel the sting from Cassandras abilities, it was HER that was suppressing her powers. But she had to work through it, she remembered her words, _Everyone who attended is dead. dead. DEAD!_ She could feel the sting in the back of her eyes as tears began to form. No, everyone? She couldn't believe it, she didn't want to…

"What do you mean everyone's dead?" Was the only thing she could say, there was nothing left in her mind to say.

Cassandra didn't believe her, didn't believe her glassy eyes, the look of horror on her face. She grabbed her hand, still tightly secured in the stocks. She held her arm up, "Explain _this._" A green flash erupted from her hand, as if it reacted to Cassandras presence. Her shoved the arm back down, the stocks rattling as the green light illuminated Anara's face.

She couldn't, she had no reason, no excuse and no memory of it. She was trying to grasp at straws, trying to please the woman in front of her, like she had been trained to do in the circle. "I...Can't…" She couldn't find the right words to make her happy, and only ran into a wall with words.

"What do you mean you _Can't!_ " Cassandras grip on her sword getting tighter as Leliana began her pace opposite of Cassandra.

Anara felt like she was in a sea with sharks. As they encircled her, " I don't know what that is, or how it got there."

"You're lying!" she said, Cassandra gave into her anger as she grabbed Anara by the tunic, the clatter of the stocks as her hands shot up, trying to resist Cassandras grip. Cullen shifted, knowing full well of Cassandras anger, he stopped as Leliana jumped in, pushing her away from Anara.

"We need her, Cassandra." Leliana assured her, Cassandras face growing dark as they separated from the mage.

Anara's eyes shot down to the ground, the woman's temper flared her abilities and she felt stifled. Like a plant left in the sun for too long, she felt any longer and she will wilt. "What happens now..?"

Tears kept threatening to appear, but she suppressed them, just like Cassandra suppressed her magic.

Leliana stepped forward, Cassandra trying to burn holes with her gaze, "Do you remember what happened? How this began?"

Cassandra kept pacing, now uncomfortable with letting the mage settle down.

"I remember running. _Things_ were chasing me, and then...A woman?" Her memory was cloudy, but she remembered the feared that she held in those moments. Running for her life as she heard the scuttling noise behind her. Anara focused her attention on Cassandra, trying to ensure that the warrior didn't take her head.

Leliana seemed genuinely interested as she rocked back, arms braced, "A woman?"

Anara nodded. Her hair knotted and hanging in her face, the night or two here hadn't been kind to her. But all she wished was the appease the people in front of her, especially the one still circling like a vulture. Waiting to pick her remains clean until there is nothing left. "She reached out to me, but then…"

Cassandra had finally put her foot down, having enough of this conversation, "Go to the forward camp Leliana, I will take her to the rift.." She had trusted Cassandras judgement, leaving her alone with the blades and the Templar.

Cassandra seemed impatient, unshackling the stocks around her wrists, letting her hands free, " "What _did_ happen?" Anara spoke up, looking at Cassandra, her attention no longer on her, but on a different task at hand as she bound her hands together.

She grabbed Anara's arm, pulling her up, "It will be easier to show you." Cassandra stepped forward, leading the way as the blades still stood behind her. She had no other choice but to follow the warrior in front of her. Her steps were reluctant and quiet, hoping that she could just step into the fade and to freedom. But she knew with her around, being able to control magic was like trying to make good food from a Nug.

The doors to the Chantry opened as they both stepped outside, the air was cold, as fresh snow covered the ground. The sun was bright in it's reflection, making sight all the more painful. Her body recoiled as she tried to adjust, her eyes slowly sweeping the sky, '_By the maker'_ her head screamed and her heart dropped as her eyes looked over the green tear in the sky.

"We call it "The Breach" It's a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour." Cassandra looked up to the sky, her hand on the hilt of her sword. She turned around, looking at Anara, "It's not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the conclave."

Anara's eyebrows furrowed, her mind was confused by what she was looking at in the sky, "An explosion can do that?"

"This one did." She stepped forward, the look on her face seeming less than pleasant towards her current company. "Unless we act, The Breach may grow until it swallows the world."

A noise ripped through the air, as the sky groaned from the tear. The breach was expanding, and flaring. Tearing through to the mark in her arm, Her arm flexing to the breach as she groaned. The burning pain in her flesh coming back again, as she felt it surge and grow further into her. The pain burned towards the top of her arm, slowly making it's way into her shoulder. She suddenly feared what effect this magic would have if it reached her heart.

Her knees buckled as she fell to the ground, the tears that she fought back for so long finally coming through. She fought to regain control, clenching her fingers tighter trying to reign it in but it failed. She was at a loss for this experience.

"Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads...And it is killing you."

Anara would've preferred good news to the situation at hand, but she was in the middle of something that she knew nothing about.

"It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time. " Anara didn't know what was happening. One moment she felt the warrior was going to kill her, then punch her and now she's making bargains? Using sound logic? This was a different tactic.

Anara was caught at an impasse, she didn't know what to say, but in her mind she agreed to whatever terms. " I understand."

Cassandra for a brief moment looked taken aback, " Then…?"

" I'll do what I can. Whatever it takes." Anara raised her courage to look her in the eyes, desperately trying to build trust.

The people of Haven silently judged her as she walked through the town, Cassandra explaining the situation regarding the conclave. The death of Divine Justinia, and the continuation of the war between mages and Templar's. It had seemed that the people of Haven had already judged her guilt regardless. That the situation was cut and dry and simple to explain. Suddenly, the town of Haven felt more cramped and tiny than anyone could've originally thought before.

Anara was all the happier leaving the town, leaving those eyes staring at her, judging her for being a mage. For surviving when the Divine didn't, she understood their judgement, although it was misplaced. The wind picked up as they crossed slowly into the mountains. Cassandra stopped her, to cut the binds that held her in place. Finally putting some small amount of trust in her, but to remain defenseless.

"There will be a trial. I can promise no more." She could live with this decision, she had a chance to prove herself, regain some of her memories, get some distance between herself and that town. To go. Up into the mountains…

_Vhenan…_

They had crossed the bridge, and began their ascent towards the mountain, towards the breach. Towards him.

She could feel her heart quicken as her thoughts wavered to his promise, to his words and admission. Suddenly her feet felt like they weren't going quick enough, her steps matching Cassandra step for step.

She had fought demons, her magic no longer suppressed, but the warrior still seemed at odds with her, " Drop your weapon. NOW." Anara held up her hands as Cassandra moved in with her sword.

"OK, have it your way…" She prepared to drop her staff until Cassandra spoke up, " Wait, I cannot protect you, and I cannot expect you to be defenseless.."

They had moved further up the mountain, getting closer to him, to the elf in her dreams. To the one who held her when she had first awoken. To the one who called her Vhenan. Her feet reluctantly stepped onto the ice, hearing the deep cracking noise that began to spread from her weight. Her eyes darted upwards, so close to the mountains, so close to the Breach… Her feet gained distance, a path began to lead up the mountain it's steps winding higher and higher.

" We're getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.." Cassandra shouted as she picked up her pace behind Anara.

" Who's fighting?" Her voice began to lose out as her magic flared, her hands gripping her staff as she reached the top. The winds howled across the ground, snow flaring around her wildly, the rift growing closer.

"You'll see soon. We must help them." Cassandra made it around Anara, her shield out and ready, her blade gripped in her hand. She was prepared for a fight without a second thought she charged towards the bright green bombardments, striking the earth.

Anara paused, looking over the small battlefield, demons fighting men. Her eyes searched, uncertain and afraid. Her eyes flowed over the field until she saw ice encase a demon in it's place. Flurries of deadly snow crossing the battlefield, _Another mage._ Her mind quickened, seeking out the magic that cast such a spell. Until she crossed an elf standing there. Ice erupting forth from him as he channeled his magic, tearing through the demon horde.

Anara could feel the fire begin to rise inside of her, as her magic lashed out. Fire erupted on the field, burning through those deemed unfriendly. Her staff rose and twirled as she channeled her magic, until lighting cracked down from the sky striking into the enemies. Their bodies twitched and convulsed, some disappearing back into realm that they came from. She could feel a twitch upon her lips, feeling as if the most wicked smile would play across her face.

Solas looked up to the sky, watching lightning strike the ground, sending shock waves through the ground. Destabilizing the demons and their footing on this world. _Lightning…_ He realized from the overpowered rush of magic in the air who was causing all this damage in the area. Lightning was her craft, and perhaps one of the purest forms of fire. For she did not singe in the fires of her heart, but instead burned in an inferno.

Solas looked up, his spell stopped as he looked over the field, finally resting his eyes upon the form of Anara. Her coat blew wildly behind her, her hair a wild mess. She looked feral, like some wild cat that came prowling from the woods into battle. How each time he came across her she became different, she had a sense of duality about her. She was kind and gentle, but when consumed in her magic, in her emotions she was an aggressive and strong creature. Solas looked upon her, the corner of her mouth hooked up in a wicked smirk. The power that she felt, that she exerted was overwhelming, and seductive all at once.

Varric shot his last bolt, Cassandra stood down and sheathed her blade, and Solas lowered his staff. There stood Anara, still as wild and feral as she was before, but her eyes began to soften and her body became less rigid. Her eyes roaming across the field, coming into contact with him from a distance. Solas wanted to race across the field, wrap his arms around her and kiss her deeply. To oblivion with what everyone else thought in that moment.

His feet moved without a thought as did hers, their steps becoming closer and closer. Solas knew in his mind what he had promised, to give her all of him and more. He wanted nothing more than that, nothing more than to hide out in the wilderness, as passion engulfed them. But as he approached he saw Cassandra turning her attention to him. Then the small rift that formed.

He was so close to kissing her lips, but felt his need to fulfill his duty come first. Duty first, passion second, until there is nothing left but passion. His hand clasped around Anara's wrist holding it up.

"Quickly, before more come through!" His arm moved violently, as if he channeled the mark to work. Her hand exploded in light, green seemed to move around them like smoke, or fog on a lake. She could feel the surge of power as the rift before her shifted, compressing until it shattered like glass. Sending a shock wave through the air, the closing of the rift sent a ripple through her mark. Her face grew in confusion as she pulled her arm back, uncertain with what had just happened.

"What did you do?" Her uncertainty only grew as she looked back down at her hand. Unknowing of what kind of power it possessed.

Solas wanted to grab back her hand, hold it in his and damn the world around them. Varric stepped forward, walking towards the group.

"_I_ did nothing. The credit is yours. "

"At least this is good for something." Her eyes looked suddenly judgmental towards her mark and what it has done to her life so far.

"Whatever magic opened the breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand.." Her hand still glowed so lightly to the presence of the breach, "I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the breach's wake..And it seems I was correct." Solas looked down at her hand as well, seeing the panicked look in her eyes. _Vhenan, do not fear it. _

Her body seemed to relax as she looked up at him, it seems he got through to her after all. "It seems you hold the key to our salvation." Solas wanted to remind her of her importance, and of the good her mark could do. He urged the reassurance with his words, knowing her better and better in each day.

" Good to know! Here I thought we'd be ass deep in demons forever." Varric stood there, adjusting his gloves to the harsh climate. The sarcasm in his words were dripping out of his mouth. He approached Anara, her staff in her hand as if it was a crutch at this point.

"Varric Tethras; Rogue, storyteller and occasionally, unwelcome tag along. " His eyes looked up to Cassandra a quick wink that made her eyebrows furrow in anger, a snarl forming on her face.

Anara looked at Varric, the dwarf was roguish to say the least, but a tag along? "Are you with the Chantry or…?"

Solas chuckled, she had such innocent questions. But she had been asleep, she had very little recollection and he knew her questions would seem off until she regained a part of herself again.

"Technically I'm a prisoner, just like you. " His head looked down, looking back to his gloves.

"Nice to meet you, Varric." Her face softened as she greeted the dwarf.

" You might reconsider that stance. In time." Solas smiled, a laugh threatening to erupt from his lips. Anara tried to hard to be diplomatic, to have the nobility that ran in her blood. But Solas knew that with her nobility, there too was magic, and magic was shunned. He looked over at Anara, trying not to give away his feelings to the overly observant dwarf.

"My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions. I am pleased to see you still live." He said what he had to mask his intentions, to try and seem normal to Varric.

He shook his head, trying to hold back a laugh to Solas, " He means, 'I kept that mark from killing you while you slept."

Anara turned her head looking at Solas who, seemed open to her questioning look, "I...Thank you.." Other words began to fail her as she looked at Solas. His eyes seemed to pierce hers as she remembered what he had said in the fade to her. How he had seen her memories, walked her dreams and more. How he had said those words, but didn't kiss her. Oh how she wished for his kiss now.

Solas and Cassandra were now talking, his words trying to reassure the warrior of the magic that dwelled in both Anara and the Breach. As well as the situation with the forward camp, Cassandra's feet moved, trying to rush everyone to the forward camp. Varric slowly following,

"Well, Bianca's excited!" He spoke as he rounded out behind Cassandra, their bodies moving forward towards their next destination.

"Vhenan.." Solas spoke behind her, a gasp of surprise leaving her lips as she turned to meet his eyes. He started her down, through her soul he had seen through her in yet his eyes met hers hungrily. "Vhenan…" He whispered, his lips inching closer and closer, she could feel the heat from his lips. "Ma vhenan'ara.." Was his final whisper as his lips met hers. Finally touching outside the fade, outside promises with desire demons, outside bringing her back from the brink. This was real, for the first time, and in the pit of his stomach he felt a fire begin to form, and he knew that he couldn't stop himself anymore


	7. Chapter 7

Solas's hands pulled her close, wrapping around the small of her back. His feet moved, trying to find something to support himself on, Anara's feet moved in response, dropping her staff behind them. The fire within him burned stronger as he felt the softness of her lips, her body coming into contact with a ruined wall. His hands braced the wall as he pressed himself against her, the wall supporting them both as his kiss became deeper. His hand tangling in her hair, her knotted curls in his hands as he pressed her closer into the kiss. His other hand stroked her cheek, his thumb reveling in the feel of her skin. Finally, after all this time here they were, in the flesh together.

His tongue gently stroked her bottom lip, begging for entrance into her mouth. Her moans drew him in as his mind begged, "_Vhenan, I have waited for this moment..Don't deny me, us now.."_

She gave a small whimper as her mouth opened to him, he pressed further into her body tasting her lips as their tongue clashed.

He groaned into her mouth as he felt himself grow hard at the feel of her lips, the feel of her tongue. His hands untangled from her hair, touching any exposed skin that he could find. She moaned in his mouth, feeling his hardness pressing against her body, he wasn't lying to her in the very least. She felt his hands run under her coat, pushing the cloth from her shoulders and to the ground. The chill of the air, caused her body to shiver at the feel of it, quake beneath his eager hands.

Solas was the first to break the kiss. His lips becoming more eager to feel her skin, to draw out more moans from her lips. His head tilted into her neck, his kisses burning her skin, warming her from the chill of the mountain snow. His hands freely roamed, one moved to her lips, his thumb outlining her bottom lip, the other pulling up her thigh, hooking her leg behind him.

Her moans were encouraging and music to his ears as his tongue darted out against her throat, leaving a trail down to her collarbone. Leaving little nips and bites all the way down. How he wanted her now. So many nights in the fade left unsatisfied, wondering if what he felt was unrequited or just meaningless lust. But here, now he felt her shiver to his touch as his body ached for hers, to fly into oblivion like a moth to a flame.

He groaned as he pressed himself against her, his hardness pressing against her warmth. She shuddered as his hips slowly rocked against her, Solas's sense of control going out the window. His hands worked tirelessly with clasps as he tried to free more skin to his lips. Her hands worked quickly through his vest, finding their way to his undershirt. Her head fell back as she touched his skin, the hard plains she felt on his stomach.

Solas's lips took the opportunity to feel more of her skin as his lips capture the nape of her neck. His hands had given up on their task, but instead issued a new one as a hand fumbled with her tunic, hand sliding underneath. Her skin was softer than he imagined, remembering her scars and freckles that speckled her body. He groaned again into her neck as his teeth sunk into her shoulder, threatening to leave a mark. His other hand had pulled her other leg up, wrapping them around his hips as he began to thrust into her, grinding himself on her wetness. Her hands had lost all intention, as they gripped at the wall behind her, trying to hold herself up as Solas gained pace against her. One hand gripping tightly against her thigh, holding her in place with his body, the other running up her skin. Seeking a new prize.

Solas could feel their magic storm together, a wild tempest in their midst. Clashing, and forming, creating a static charge all around them. Solas could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end to their magic. The feel of it all the more intoxicating just as seductive as the feel of the woman he had pinned to the wall.

The mountains were treacherous, and steep. He was supposed to make his way to the forward camp with all the other recruits, but he had spent his whole night watching their prisoner sleep. Cullen rubbed his eyes as he languidly made his way up the steps, oh how he hated the cold, how he was exhausted and his mind had wandered.

He paused for a moment on the steps, slowly getting closer to the breach, but his body didn't want to keep moving, let alone fight. His powers had weakened to a point where he feared he wouldn't be able to suppress any magic. He was only as good as the blade and shield that he had with him.

Cullen's face met with his gloves as he tried to rub some feeling back into his cheeks. The silence seemed deafening, like everything in the area was dead and gone from the world. He had taken the time to close his eyes, breathe in the air and still taste the ash in it. But his ears, picked up a peculiar noise, his skin began to feel warm and the hair on his neck stood. The noise became louder, as he drew his sword. Preparing for a fight he slowly made his way over the top, keeping himself low just in case. Everything in his body telling him to be prepared, he had left the line of sight as he entered the tree line.

His eyes looked down at the vial of lyrium that he carried, just in case. His mind screaming to take it, but his body knew what would happen and they fought their eternal battle with each other. Face his dreams and his nightmares head on, or hide behind a mask from them and from the world.

He threw the vial into the snow, he was prepared regardless of the situation, his back to the tree trunk as he took a breath, his eyes closed, blade drawn. He was ready. He began to stand, prepared to run out into the field sword swinging and war cries from his breath until his heart stood still at the sight.

His knees buckled as he fell, sword dropped into the snow, shield following behind. He braced the tree, trying to hide behind it as he looked down at what was before him.

He saw Solas and Anara pressed against a wall, Her body bending to his as he bit into her neck. Moans escaping her lips, her hands clawing at the wall behind her, trying to gain stability. He saw Solas savagely thrusting himself against her, each time drawing out another cry of ecstasy from her lips. Cullen stared at those lips, how full they were, how red they became from harsh kisses. How her neck tilted at an angle to allow more access, how her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip. How they both were so caught up in it they didn't sense the Templar's presence, but how could they? Cullen's powers waned, and how their magic engulfed the area, Cullen wouldn't be strong enough to suppress it.

He groaned to himself as watched her legs wrap around Solas's hips, encouraging his movement. Her breath becoming louder, her cheeks becoming flushed as she bit her bottom lip, hard. Cullen could feel himself growing hard at the sight before him. Remembering the dream he felt last night stir his arousal.

She was a circle mage, and he was an Ex-Templar. He had been infatuated with his charge before, but never acted upon it. But he wished to act upon this feeling, regardless of Solas's intentions as well.

He had dreamed of taking her in the dungeon, with her stocks above her head and her body exposed to him. Cullen shuddered as the dream as his arousal grew harder, twitching in anticipation. "Maker's Breath.." He muttered, peeling a glove off of his hand, his fingers finding his way into his trousers. His fingers moved over his shaft as he watched Solas and Anara against the wall, his mind periodically going back to his dream from the night.

Solas grunted as he lost his pace, oh how he wished she wore a skirt, or a dress. How he wished to be inside of her now as one. But beggars can't be choosers and he took this opportunity and he knew he had to be quick. He felt that they had been gone too long, Cassandra and the nosy dwarf would come back for them if he didn't finish what he had started. His hand kneaded her breast, his teeth finding their way to her earlobe.

She cried out, her mouth gaping as her eyes shut. His hand continued kneading her breast, reveling in how it fit perfectly in his hand as a groan came from his lips. His voice tingling through her spine as he felt her impending orgasm come across her like a hunger. Like some deep feeling that must be satisfied. " More…" She begged heatedly into his ear, a growl rolling off her words as Solas growled back into her ear.

" Ma nuvenin…" His thrusts lost pace as he reached for the same precipice that she was going towards. Feeling himself get closer to being consumed both body and soul, giving her everything that he could at this moment. His fingers ran up her arms as they still braced the wall. His fingers sliding in with hers, holding them together. Words seemed lost to him at this point, the only ones he could find were repeated upon his lips. Each time spoken in between his harsh kisses planting himself closer and closer to the abyss with Anara. " Emma lath." His lips would meet hers, his tongue sparring with hers as she moaned into his mouth, " Ma sa'lath." His words repeated as a chant upon his lips. His fingers gripped tighter as hers did in response, her voice cracking, as she reached the edge. Solas joined her happily in that moment groaning, "Ma'arlath, Anara…" As his seed flooded his pants, a sweet stickiness between them both as she finished, her body still coming down from her climax as he kissed her once, twice, again and again. His arms running back down, gripping her backside and holding her to him. She sighed against him, her arms wrapping around his neck the final pulses of her body coming down. Their magic slowly waning as they came back down from their climax, slowly settling themselves back to normality.

Cullen braced himself against the tree, holding back his moans and words as he spilled his seed across the snow. He watched the two mages slowly unhook themselves from each other, their eyes never leaving contact as Solas wrapped her back up in her coat, his lips taking hers one more time.

She had smiled, the first time Cullen had seen her smile and to him it was glorious. Not a shy smile, not a coy one, but one devoid of fear and filled with only bliss. He wished to know that smile someday.

Cullen had sat there, in the snow as his climax still waned. He allowed himself enough time to clean up, he wasn't a mage, and he didn't have an easy spell to make the evidence go away. His head rest against the tree trunk as he pulled his pants back up, feeling the cold of the mountain creep back into his body.

The magic they had created was gone, leaving only empty silence, and cold memories in their wake.

Solas had made quick work up the mountain with Anara following close behind. Be hoped they hadn't been missed, or been searched for. He spent his time racking his brain for excuses, ideas, conversations that never happened. When they reached yet another rift there was Cassandra and Varric fighting, and Solas wondered in that moment if their presence or lack there of was noticed. Anara stepped forward, the mark on her hand glowing as she looked at Solas. He nodded acknowledging her question and agreeing to it as he helped hold out her hand. The mark working through the broken piece of fade, burning through her again, but the pain was nothing as she worked through it. The rift collapsing, mending and breaking around them as the demons howled, burning away into the ground.

Cassandra turned, noticing the mages appearance to the fight, "Here I thought you both would've ran. Quickly, we must move to the forward camp."

Solas looked at Anara, "We're here aren't we? She feared the mark and it had begun to spread. I had to help." Cassandra nodded, somehow believing the blatant lie, Varric seemed unphased by it, gripping Bianca tight.

"The rift is gone, open the gates!" Cassandra commanded as the doors opened to them. The wrath of heaven had come down upon them it seemed, but in this moment, Anara didn't much mind the wrath anymore.

Once they walked across the bridge Solas mentally kept in mind the unfortunate meeting of Chancellor Roderick, a miserable and angry little man. How he got so far in the Chantry Solas couldn't figure out, but here he was, shouting at everyone within ears reach.

Anara didn't take too kindly to his presence and his incessant yelling, a small man whose ego rivaled that of the Imperium. He shouted for her execution, shouted at Cassandra, shouted at Leliana, shouted at well, everyone. He thought himself a high man, something in which everyone knew he wasn't. He liked to play tactician, liked to order people what to do, liked to throw around the name Val Royeaux.

Cassandra and Leliana discussed attack strategies, charge through with the soldiers, or through the mountains. Both seemed at odds with each other, not knowing what was the best course of action. They looked at Anara, the breach exploding, it was beginning to expand again. Her arm twitched, and jerked, that part she was still unable to control. She gripped her hand, pulling it down, hoping not to frighten anyone in the area. Hoping to hide it from the rest of the world like some ghastly wound.

Her eyes looked up at Cassandra who stepped forward, Leliana taking an interest as well in the mage. " How do _you_ think we should proceed?" The sudden thought confused her, _What did SHE think? She? Really?_ No one so far never asked for her opinion in any matters. So far hours ago she was an unwilling participant, a prisoner dragged from the Chantry to walk this road. NOW they wanted her opinion on what the best course of action was?

Her look of confusion began to soften as she thought about the course of was best? She didn't know but the stubbornness within her went for the more direct approach, "I won't survive long enough for your trial. Whatever happens, happens now."

She braced her staff, looking up at the breach. Her mind was sound and her decision was made and she will not be shaken from it. Her feet took step, whether she was alone or not, she will not regret today, and if she died, she died with the memory of someones arms and someones kisses.

Solas took step behind her, proudly stepping with his Vhenan, Varric took up behind the elf, shaking his head but moving on towards the battle.

Cassandra turned towards Leliana, looking the spymaster in the eyes. "Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone." Cassandra grabbed her shield, preparing her blade for their imminent battle.

"On your head be the consequences, Seeker." Anara could feel the venom drip from the last word, _Seeker._ By the maker, she hated that man already and she feared, this won't be the last time she had to listen to him yell.

The mountain became steep, fresh powder tracks left in the snow lead them up the mountain. Cassandra took point guard ahead of everyone, ensuring that they all made it there alive. The snow fell heavier as they made their way forward, the trees groaning under the wind as they swayed. They could smell the fire and embers that still burned at the temple, hear the shouts of soldiers and their rallying as the group made their way to the top. Looking towards the burning remains.

Cullen was happy to be free from the yells of Roderick. He had fled up the mountain the moment he saw Anara and the group taking the brunt of his anger. He moved quickly, trying not to be seen as he rallied to the front lines. He had awoken rather quickly after what had happened down the mountain. The chill of the snow beginning to delve through his clothes, he had to fight, or run, anything at this point to fight off the mountains power.

He had seen a rift appear, his men yelling and coming together, he fought alongside them, slaying demons was a better way to pass time then to dither with Roderick and his words. One wave after another came, his men fighting, and dying to what he was beginning to feel was a empty purpose.

He braced his eyes as he saw a stream of green light erupt to the rift, the rift began to bend and flex, it's destruction reigning down like broken glass. There was a sigh of relief from the soldiers around as the rift had disappeared, the last of the demons being cut down.

" Sealed, as before. You are becoming quite proficient at this." Solas stood beside Anara as Cullen looked at them, remembering their shared embrace earlier in the day.

"Let's hope it works on the big one.." Varric stepped forward, looking up in the sky at the breach as it moved further into the sky.

Anara looked up to the sky, wondering what effect her mark would truly have on the breach. It's power was greater than hers, and perhaps, it will kill her as well. Her mind had that moment of doubt, but she brought it back as she looked to the sky in resolution and determination.

Cullen walked across the field, not knowing of the power that had finally closed the rift. "Lady Cassandra, you manager to close the right? Well done." He looked on with gladdened by the fact that he didn't have to lose anymore soldiers in his midst.

" Do not congratulate me, commander. This is the prisoner's doing." Cassandra turned towards Anara, letting Cullen know where his thanks should lie.

Cullen felt awkward and felt the beginnings of his words fumble about. He had to gather himself quickly, trying not to think of her lips, or her legs wrapped around the elf. No, he had to be diplomatic he had to think of anything...but that. "Is it? I hope they're right about you. We've lost a lot of people getting you here." He kicked himself internally, that sounded ruder then he had intended. Blast and damn.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, sensing some kind of tension in the Commander, "You're not the only one hoping that." She said, trying to hide the spite in her voice.

"We'll see soon enough, won't we." Damn, again! He wasn't being the diplomat that he was hoping to accomplish in his words. But his word choices were poor at best and how he said it much worse. He cursed himself in his head as he tried to dismiss his words, trying to work through to something better.

"The way to the temple is clear, Leliana will try to meet you there." He spoke directly to Cassandra, never thinking of her in THAT way. She was intimidating, but in her own gruff way. But Anara, was intimidating in every way that he could think of. When he was in sight of her, he thought now of other things besides her intimidation.

Cassandra acknowledged his efforts, looking over the group as she spoke, Cullen turned away looking at Anara one last time, " Maker watch over you - for all our sakes." His feet moved as he seemed to flee, the rest of his troops retreating. Cullen raced to the aid of another soldier limping from the battlefield. Bracing an arm over his shoulder, Cullen cursed himself again internally as he just ran. _Blast it, Damn those words and my tongue!_ He knew he couldn't think right when she was there it seemed. Not now, not ever in the future and he knew it would haunt him in his sleep.

The grounds of the temple was grisly, bodies like statues set aflame. Their faces marked with horror, and agony. The breach pulsed with life in the background, it's green light illuminating everything, covering the land in a haze of despair. Rocks jutted from the earth light the jaws of a great beast, preparing to swallow the hallowed grounds whole.

The fires burned as Anara passed through the old grounds of the temple. Bodies burned in their place, some running, some bent over in agony, others bent back, howling silently. This place was familiar, but beyond that remained an empty void. Like someone had just, taken her memories and left them somewhere dark and hidden.

In the center was a large rift, perhaps the breach she thought, she could feel it's power coursing with hers. Her mark beginning to flare as she set her eyes upon it. It cracked and waned like glass, the green haze from it rose above the ground, rising into the sky as it formed and collected, creating the breach itself.

Leliana made her way through the ruined corridors looking for Cassandra. When she met up with them her and Cassandra talked about strategy, planning for what they expected to be another demon attack. The soldiers shuffled, stationing themselves around the temple, ensuring the best case for success.

Anara looked at the rift, her eyes studying its structure, and how it exactly affected her. Cassandra stepped in front of her, breaking her contact with the rift. "This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?"

" I'm not sure how to even start getting up to that thing." Her eyes looked up to the sky and back down to the rift. Her words at a loss with what was around her, all that had happened at the temple.

" No, this rift was the first, and it is the key. Seal it, and perhaps we seal the breach. " Solas interjected, trying to reassure Anara of the situation. Knowing full well the panic that began to seep into her heart, the fear and confusion that claimed her. His eyes looked to the sky as well, drawing his attention back to Anara, his eyes trying to speak volumes to her, "_Do not fear Vhenan, I am with you.."_ He could sense her relaxing just a little, just enough to goad some confidence.

A voice shook through the mountain, a deep, resounding voice that ran through Anara, causing the mark to flare. "Now is the hour of our victory." She grabbed her hand, trying to move forward, Solas came to her, helping her stay on her feet as the mark flared, it's magic threatening to spill over.

The voice continued again as they kept walking, Anara's hand desperately trying to gain control, "Bring forth the sacrifice."

She could hear Cassandra behind her questioning the voice the came through, that shook the temple to it's core and foundation. That shook the men around them.

Red lyrium grew like weeds in a garden, their towering spikes like bloody fangs. Varric looked upon the lyrium with disgust, telling everyone not to touch it. Making his point very clear on his feelings for the stuff.

The voice boomed again, it's echo shaking the red lyrium, "Keep the sacrifice still."

Anara continued forward, determination filling her moves as her feet went forward. Step by step, a voice called out again, different, a woman. "Someone help me!" Her voice cried out, like an echo into the abyss.

"That is divine Justinia." The mark flared again, causing Anara to fall to the ground, the magic overwhelming her for the moment. Solas gripped her shoulders, trying to help her up, but the pain was overwhelming. Anara looked down the stairs that lead to the rift, her fingers clenching as she continued forward. Her feet finally touching the solid earth.

The rift sounded like a raging battle, like the clashes of swords and the breaking of steel but it looked like darkened glass. She approached it with caution, her body finally recovering, the mark no longer bearing the pain that it once carried.

The voice spoke once again, still crying out, " Someone, help me!" The cries of Divine Justinia falling upon the ears of everyone there.

The faint twinge as she heard herself speak up, " What's going on here?" She heard herself, everyone heard her and she had no recollection of it, no memory. Cassandra prodded, but nothing came from her lips. She could not remember.

The rift shifted, a blackened figure with red eyes hovering above them all. Divine Justinia held in place by magic. Anara charged forward, her staff in hand, "What's going on here?" Her voice authoritative and inquisitive.

Justinia shouted, "Run while you can! Warn them!" Anara's body felt like it was going to buckle. She remembered none of this, her mind an empty bank to these events. She felt tears of anger beginning to form, why couldn't she remember, why can't she remember this!?

"We have an intruder." The deep voice said, she could feel the red eyes upon her very soul as it spoke. It's hand reaching out to her, pointing at her, "Slay the mage." His voice had more authority as the light overwhelmed in a bright flash.

Cassandra took quick to blame, but there was nothing there to remember. She didn't believe Anara when she told her the truth, Cassandra looked at her accusingly, prepared to speak again of her until Solas spoke.

"Echoes of what happened here. The fade bleeds into this place." He looked at Anara standing there, her anger starting to boil over as she tried to claw back her memories. " This rift is not sealed, but it is closed...Albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely." Solas tried to reassure her again without speaking.

"However, opening the rift will likely attract the attention from the other side."

_Demons._

They all knew this, but they had to take the risk, to properly seal the rift these risks had to be made.

Anara stood there, braced with her staff as Solas did the same, Bianca made her appearance and Cassandra lead her troops in the ramparts above them and on the ground. Her shield was ready, her sword braced and outward and the rift, open to their realm. The streams of green falling into the ground, opening them up to the demons that awaited.

Cassandra took a swing, her shield knocking back the demons that spawned. Driving them away from Anara, as she shouted, "Seal the breach!" Her sword lashing out wildly at the demons surrounding.

Her magic began to flow, the battle around her calling her to attention. She had to fight, she had to protect them, had to stop the demons, had to close the rift..

Her staff waved wildly, lightning shooting down from the sky, paralyzing demons as their bodies quaked and shook. Her hand shot out to the breach, trying to focus her attention upon the rift, closing it, and ending this nightmare.

The demons swarmed in waves, a pride demon making his way across the battlefield. Making his way towards Anara, knowing well what her pride had wrought not only upon herself, but upon the world. She heard it's laugh as she looked over, it's attention squarely upon her, she wanted to move, wanted to run, as she remembered the pride demon that tried to possess her in her harrowing. "_Vhenan!" _his words rang through her mind across the battlefield. "_It is not the same demon. You can do this Vhenan." _

Her mind focused on her task, closing the rift regardless of the Pride Demons motives. It laughed again, summoning a ball of magic trying to stop Anara from closing the rift. It's arms lifting preparing until Cassandra came running in, her shield hitting the demon in the knee as her sword swung down upon it's leg. There was a mighty howl in the distance as the demon was injured. It's body soon returning from whence it came as Cassandra took the final blow, "Quick! Seal the rift!" Her magic poured into it, all of her concentration went into it, and she could feel Solas's eyes upon her and the rift, worry beginning to form in his eyes and show on his face.

She gritted her teeth as she tried more, her gaze looking into the rift, watching it collect and bend. And with an explosion of green that spread across the sky like a tidal wave the hole that marred the sky had sealed.

It had spread across the sky and through the lands, the shock wave that had followed, the town of Haven feeling it firsthand.

Anara's hand reached out towards the sky, her magic drained, her body exhausted and her world fading to black.

She could feel her knees collapse as they hit the ground, she was overwhelmed with this feeling of dejavu, like this had happened before. Her body had given up, residing back to the fade that she was before. She fell forward, hitting the ground of the temple, dirt and ash smearing her face. Solas ran, dropping his staff in the process before he grabbed Anara, holding her body on his knees, "Ma vhenan!" he shook her, her mind focused on his words, those sweet words. "Emma lath!" his hand touched her face as her eyes shut, he sought a pulse as his fingers touched her neck, " Ma sa'lath, ma'arlath." he spoke to her, feeling her pulse weaken, but still there. "Ma'arlath. Anara." Her mind had faded to black, those words the last thing she heard.

Varric stood there, Bianca by his side, convinced by the elf that Anara had died. "Is she?" Solas turned his head, forgetting about his comrades.

"No she's. Fallen back to where she was before. Will she wake? I do not know."

Cassandra sheathed her sword, walking towards the mage, "She will be taken to Haven."

Solas looked up at Cassandra accusingly, "To what? Face a trial?"

Cassandra stood a little taller from his accusation, "She saved us, she will need a warm bed to sleep and the watchful eye of Adan." Solas didn't realize the amount of respect that Anara had garnered from the warrior. But took it as a great stride compared to Varric's attempts.

" Of course." Solas resigned to the situation as Cassandra and his helped move her body slowly back down to Haven.

There were cheers and jeers of excitement. People clamoring in excitement at the events today and the closing of the rift. People sang, and danced, feasts were made, but all of this meant nothing when Solas and Cassandra walked through the door with Anara strung between them.

Cullen was happy, ensured that his men got good food and a warm belly after today. He clapped a soldier on the arm, smiling until the doors to Haven swung open. Anara's head slumped, her feet dragging, her body between Solas and Cassandra. His heart sank a little, and his throat clenched as they moved on, walking towards Adans house. He tried to remain cheerful and happy despite the situation that had walked through the door.

Solas had moved her to a bed in Adan's house, assuring Cassandra of the situation. That it was being properly handled. Adan may have left to join in on the festivities, but he reminded her that she was his charge. And his charge she was.

His hands undressed her down to her tunic and pants, trying to ensure that she didn't wake up in full armor. He sat down beside her bed, his chin resting upon his hand, the other moving the hair from her eyes. He sat there, and would sit there if it took all eternity for her to come back to him. His fingers playing with her hair, speaking to her as if she were awake, "There is a song among my people. Suledin, it means Endure. It's a tale of enduring hardship, in all it's forms." His fingers crossed hers as he held her hand. " To endure, and emerge from sorrow. Perhaps I could sing it for you.." His eyes crossed over her face, the peaceful look made him smile as he wiped the dirt from her face. "No, my singing isn't that bad, don't worry." He leaned over, kissing her on the forehead, his voice quiet as he sang just for the two of them,

" Melava inan enansal.

Ir so araval tu elvaral.

U na emma abelas.."

His voice sang for only them in the room, until the lights burned low, and his eyes had struggled to stay open, his voice sang for only them until he was about to fall asleep. His head laying on her bed as he tried to sleep. It was in this moment in his weakest words he spoke what he struggled with this whole time to say aloud, in her tongue, " I love you, Anara…"

His eyes had closed to the world, with only love upon his lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Her eyes began to open, the light becoming unbearably bright, she winced. Sometimes she hated the sun, until she got the brief reminder of it's warmth and it's freedom. She had spent so many years in the Circle tower looking out at the sun and the freedom that awaited her there.

So many years of looking out into the world and here she was finally in it. Out of pure accident and circumstance, but luck be a lady she assumed. Her mind no longer wandering about aimlessly as her eyes adjusted to the room.

Her body was tired, it ached in her limbs but her mark no longer burned. So there was a positive to all of the aches that she was feeling at this moment. Her feet slowly touched the ground, the wooden floor creaking beneath her weight. She shifted, still uneasy on her feet. She didn't know how long she was out, but this place was unfamiliar, and her movements were jittery at best. She could hear the hustle and bustle of Haven outside, a noise she once feared, but now grew used to. She wondered if they still hated her, if they still believed she was responsible..Only time will tell.

Her eyes came across the small figure of an elf, a smile on her face as if she was in a different world. She dropped her crate, the sound of bottles rattling, their contents spilling on the floor, "Oh!" The noise seemed to skitter across the ground, the elfs body becoming defensive as she slowly backed away, "I didn't know you we're awake, I swear!" She seemed to back away more and more towards the door. Anara suddenly wondered if this was about the fact that she was a mage, or if she still believed she destroyed the Conclave.

This wasn't the time to have such doubts, "Don't worry about it I only-"

The elf threw herself to the ground, the action startled Anara who stood there confused, her eyes shifting about the room trying to understand what was happening. "I beg your forgiveness, and your blessing. I am but a humble servant."

Her eyebrows raised tempted to start questioning the elf on her odd choice of behavior.

"You are back in Haven, my lady. They say you saved us, The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand."

Anara flexed her fingers, realizing what joy it was to no longer feel the burn in her hand, even if it was only temporary. The green light flashed still, but she couldn't feel it's power spreading anymore. Either it had consumed her completely or it had stopped finally, which one she could not tell.

"It's all anyone had talked about for the last three days…"

Anara hung her head, relief washing over her, they were happy, pleased? They didn't want her head, or her to face a trial then? She sighed in relief, "Then the danger is over." She seemed so certain of her words now, hoping for the very best.

The elf still stayed on the floor, her head bending a little lower, " The breach is still in the sky, but that's what they say." She began to shift, pushing herself from the floor, her hands fidgeted together. Looking more like a small frightened creature then a person.

" I'm certain Lady Cassandra would want to know you've wakened, she said, 'at once." She began to back towards the door, as if she was recoiling from a hit.

" And where is she?" Anara began to move towards the door, wishing to see the 'Seeker' as well.

"In the Chantry." The elf's movement became more panicked, " With the lord Chancellor. 'at once' she said.." As quickly as she appeared she was gone, the door closing behind her.

Anara looked around herself, feeling irritation seep through her exterior. A scowl appearing on her face as she was alone, her head lolled as she stretched her neck. The stress she was feeling began to become unbearably tight, she had only been awake for several minutes. Her mind moved about, trying to go past what irritation that she felt, pushing it deep down inside of herself.

She looked over herself, taking in the sight of what she was wearing. "What, by the maker.." There was a groan as she looked at the pants, felt the top and all the awkward metal rings and circles that covered. As if she was wearing armor to bed, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance, oh how she wished for anything other than what she was wearing. She shifted uncomfortably in the clothing provided, she searched desperately for her tunic and coat. Finding them mixed with the bottles that clattered on the floor.

" Thank the maker…" She sighed as she quickly changed, leaving the temporary clothes strewn on the floor. No matter what, she was always messy despite her heritage, and the circle tower did nothing to curb her habit.

She stood there at the door, awaiting the stern face of Cassandra to be there on the other side, but instead was met by Solas, and his gentle smile. " You're awake I see." His eyes seemed brighter when in sight of her.

A smile spread on her face as she looked down, suddenly becoming shy to the elf. Regardless of what happened between them a few days ago, it felt as if it just happened. " I suppose I have you to thank for keeping me alive this whole time. It looks like I owe you my life a second time."

A wicked smirk spread across his lips as he leaned in, looking Anara in the eyes. "You can pay me back in _other_ ways Vhenan." A blush formed across her cheeks as she remembered the roughness of his fingers and hard plains of his body. Her words failed her as she stammered, nonsensical, hardly together in her thoughts and words.

Solas seemed to enjoy this, he felt as if he had her under his thumb. Poking and prodding her in such a way to create the best response. He didn't realize she would be so easy to embarrass, but he was beginning to enjoy it. Oh the things he had planned.

Solas grabbed his staff, supporting himself on it as he began to make his move away. "I assume that Cassandra will be looking for you soon. I will not take up any more of your time for now Vhenan. But please, speak to me soon. " He grabbed her hand, pulling it up to his lips, leaving a quick kiss on her hand. The feeling sending shivers down her spine, Solas left her on that, his back turning to her as he walked away.

Her mind stared at the elf as he walked away, unknowing of the scene that stood before her.

Haven had gathered.

A sea of people swarmed the area, all whispering amongst themselves as Anara took caution to her steps.

"She closed the breach."

"Make bless you."

"The Herald saved us."

Her footing was uneasy as she walked through the crowd, expecting admonishment but instead received approval from all those around her. Feet crossed the packed in snow as she walked up the steps, her movement still slow as she grew used to the temperature of Haven once again. The wind was calmer, but there was still a piercing chill that dug through her and reddened her cheeks.

She had crossed the small tented camp that Varric would normally stay, but his figure was missing from the scene. Her feet kept walking, past soldiers with their heads bowed, their hand over their heart.

"That's her. She stopped the breach from getting any bigger."

Her feet felt the need to move faster, to shun and flee from all this attention. She crossed the training grounds outside the Chantry, the soldiers there stood there in silence. They bowed their heads, and crossed their hearts as she passed, her eyes shifting between them and the Chantry doors. Guarded silently by the priests of The Chantry, them standing there like chickens outside of their coop, they seemed frightened like there was a fox among them.

The breach looked as if it had stopped, the bright green scar in the sky still loomed over the town. But Anara took the fact that it had stopped growing as a good sign, for both her and for Thedas.

Her hands braced the doors, the priests and sisters of the chantry stood there in some sense of fear. She wondered what of, of her? That she was a mage? That she heard the name Herald out there? Or that she still had a hand in the Conclave. She didn't know, and perhaps she didn't really want to know what they thought of her.

Her eyebrows moved together, lines forming in her forehead as she pushed the doors open, the chill of the wind in Haven flooding the warm Chantry. It's lights twinkling inside like stars in the sky, without the presence of those devot it's halls felt like an empty void. Wishing to come back to it's former glory.

Her feet echoed on the stone floors, the sound resounding throughout the whole room. She felt alone, she was alone, in these halls that she was once held prisoner. In these halls that she now roamed, her hands touching the door at the end of the hall. She stopped, trying to decide if this was the best idea, she listened briefly to the heated argument that was inside. Hearing the distinct voice of Chancellor Roderick and his incessant bickering. Her heart and body gave a sigh, her hand pressing the door open…

Cassandra stood in the room, the Templar's guarding the door taking up more room then they should. Anara could feel her magic dwindle under their watchful eyes, everyone in this town seemed to know she was a mage. It wasn't exactly an easy thing to hide anyways, better they know now then later she figured to herself.

Chancellor Roderick stood there, finger pointing words spewing and expectations too high for himself. Anara truly did not like this man, too arrogant, pig headed and too full of himself to get any real work done. She stood there, tuning out the mans tirade thinking about the rough capture of her lips and the hands of Solas on her body.

She snapped herself back to those present in front of her when she felt her magic tingle, reawakening once again. The Templar's had left, closing the door behind them. Roderick continued on his tirade and Anara wished she never brought herself out of her day dream.

"You walk a dangerous line. Seeker." Roderick's emphasis on the word still dripped with the same venom as it did before. Cassandra closed in the space between them, making herself imposing on the older man.

" The breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it." Her words began to take a serious tone, a hint of annoyance began to creep it's way into her words. She had spent too much time trying to explain things to Chancellor Roderick, trying to make him understand. But perhaps Cassandra was beginning to feel what she had already felt the moment she met him.

"Someone was behind the explosion at the conclave. Some most holy did not expect." Leliana tried to step in between the two unmovable forces that were Cassandra and Roderick, but neither budged.

"Perhaps they died with the others-or have allies who yet live." Leliana's gaze fell upon Roderick, his arms flailed in opposition. He cursed and pointed more fingers at others, any blame falling upon anyone but him.

Cassandra still tried to assure him of Anara's innocence. Calling her presence, providence. That her presence here was the will of the maker.

Anara's throat tightened at the prospect, the maker sending _her_ here. The maker putting her and countless others through this? She laughed internally at the thought, the maker had a strange sense of humor if she was some divine, or guided by his hand.

"Are you sure?" Was the only thing that came from her mouth, Cassandra didn't approve of her questioning of the makers motive. But she understood Anara's confusion to the matter. For so long she felt that the maker wanted nothing to do with her. Her family had all but abandoned her to the circle, her title was forfeited, her chance at lands, wealth, marriage all but out the window. She and others had been abused by the Templars that ran the circle. She had lost someone that she loved in the very explosion that she survived. But it was all by the hand of the maker a man somewhere playing at his game of divinity.

"You are exactly what we needed, when we needed it." Cassandra tried her best to sound reassuring. She held her faith in both her and the maker rather high at this point, and Anara didn't want to disappoint suddenly.

" The breach remains, and your mark is still out only hope of closing it." Leliana seemed to negotiate her way through to Anara, trying to appeal to her good nature.

"This is not for you to decide!" Roderick chimed in again in his usual fashion. Once again making everything about him, Leliana seemed to disapprove of the man's attitude, everyone disapproved of his attitude it seemed.

There was a loud thud, Cassandra threw a book onto the table, her voice began to reach a new level of annoyance. " You know what this is, Chancellor?" Her words dripping in enough venom to kill a Druffalo.

" A writ from the divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn."

Cassandra began to move, her imposing form closing in on the Chancellor, his body backing away from her. " We will close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval." Her hands motioned, her fingers gesturing into the chancellors chest as he took up distance in the small room.

Anara stood there, a smug look upon her face as she saw the chancellor become more and more uncomfortable. His movements becoming more flighty, and panicked. He looked around the room at the women who stood there against him. Who wanted to stand there against the breach and all those responsible for it.

He turned, trying to hide his look of disgust as his eyes came across Anara, that smug look plastered on her face for all to see. His body left for the door, knowing now that his words fell upon deaf ears and that he held no power here among these women.

Leliana approached the book, her hand reaching out the the leather bound tome. "Rebuild the inquisition of old, find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren't ready, we have no leader, no numbers and now no chantry support."

The Chantry….Anara laughed to herself, what has the chantry done for her lately besides provide her with a wet floor to sleep on. She was bitter now, more than she ever was before about the chantry or the maker. Both she felt, lived only to mock her and her life. Cassandra extended a welcoming hand to Anara, allowing her to join the inquisition. The voice in her head screamed for her to flee. To turn away and to leave, find a small hermit hole in the woods and live her days away from the world and it's maker.

But in the back of everything, behind her pride and her callousness a small voice chimed in. Her compassion came in, and in all the dark that she had experienced and felt in her life, there were still moments of light.

She hung her head, eyes closed as she rubbed her temple, Cassandra was asking too much of her right now. To make a decision right now, she was still uncertain but the voice became louder. That there were arms that were willing and able to hold her at night, that weren't restricted by duty. That out there, with the inquisition stood Solas, who pulled her from oblivion, only to send her back over with his body.

The things he could promise her, and give her. The things he could make her feel.

Her mouth became incredibly dry as she thought of the elf, and the things he's already done. The thoughts of him made the decision easier then the logical route.

"f you're truly trying to restore order..." She spoke, as she looked up from the table, to the ladies that were in the room. Her mind was made up, regardless of the dark that faced them ahead. Anara knew that she was a light, that would become a beacon of hope in their darkest hour.

' Help us fix this, before it's too late." Cassandra held out her hand, welcoming Anara's hand as they shook. Silent agreement falling upon all within the room.

The inquisition had begun.

Haven began to clamor as the banner began to raise, and ravens left to the sky, messages upon their wings to reach distant shores.

People gathered outside the Chantry, mumbling among themselves as Commander Cullen walked forward. Nailing the Inquisition's paper to the door, telling all of Haven that the inquisition of old had come back, to purge the darkness back into the void.

Chancellor Roderick looked at the papers, his mind becoming uncertain of what laid ahead of them all. Worry began to seep into his face, his emotions seemed cross back and forth between worry and anger as he stormed off.

the blacksmith's hammer could be heard from all around, their tireless work sounding into the night as the prepared everyone for the tasks that laid ahead of them.

Cassandra walked through the yard, men and woman standing their ground, heads held high, as she made her way to the Chantry. Anara standing there with others at her back, feeling the eyes of the commander focusing too much on the nape of her neck.

She looked back at the commander, his gaze quickly fixing to Cassandra. Her eyes moved over the crowd, looking at a suspicious Solas looking at the Commander. Anara looked between the two, trying to understand what it was between the two men.

Cassandra said her words, reassuring the people of this decision, promising their protection. Anara felt different about this, that they were providing false hope to people who have lived in false hope. But the words were pretty, eloquent, matching the station that Cassandra was born into, and perhaps to lead into one day.

Anara stood there, letting the people silently make their own judgement of her. Friend or foe, she did not want to make the situation any worse than what it was. When it ended she felt those around her disperse, all having better tasks to do than stand about.

"My lady." She turned to look into the eyes of the commander, his short distance making her chest beat. She always seemed to have a soft spot for Templar's and this unfortunately wasn't helping her.

"Commander." She spoke, nodding her head to the man her eyes pulling away from the scar on his lip.

" I do hope we can work together in the future, I am Commander Cullen." He gave a curt nod, his hands grabbing hers as he pressed it up to his lips. A quick press and her face turned, awkward and embarrassed as she looked out for Solas and empty plea in her eyes.

Solas's face was flushed, the corner of his mouth trying not to twist up into a snarl as he looked at the commander. There was a reason he didn't like the Templar and this action only seemed to solidify it. Solas began to move, his feet no longer under his control as the distance closed, closer and closer until he cleared his throat.

"Commander Cullen, there are troops that need you to teach them how to swing a sword." Solas could feel the anger and jealousy ring through his voice as he looked at Cullen.

"Of course, my lady I will see you later." Cullen turned his back, making his way across the yard to the new recruits, standing there among the tents and clashes of practice battle.

Anara quickly turned her head, "Solas I'm sorr-" She was cut off by his finger pressed against her lips.

"I know Vhenan, don't worry. He knows something, what I'm not sure. But I'm not worried about you.." Solas's mind seemed to wander off into the distance, like he wanted to say something, but not in the presence of prying ears.

" _Come meet with me Vhenan. Tonight. Under the night sky with the stars as our witness. If you come, then we can become one."_

Her throat suddenly felt itchy, her lips parted as she looked at Solas, they were still bridged after so long, and she felt if she went tonight, they would become bridged by more than just their minds. His voice still rang in her head as he gave her a soft smile before turning away.

" _Come find me tonight. Across the frozen lake, I will wait."_

She shifted in her spot, her mind and body not in sync as she fumbled about, turning left for a distance before going right then left to correct herself. The prospect became so unnerving that she forgot what she was doing, or where she was going.

Cullen looked across at the elf and Anara as he pressed his finger to her lips. A huff coming out from under his breath as he critiqued an awful shield block. He knew that Solas was up to something what, he didn't know. But he would keep an eye on Anara for the following days, just in case.

The day continued without a hitch, sparring in the yard and the smiths busy at work. Anara stood there in her room as she started at what little was there. A cotton throw and a few apples was all she could scrounge up. Oh how disappointing the sight was as she figured it was the best that she could do.

The sun fell and darkness came in close behind it. The stars lighting up like small beacons to her destination. Her coat brushed against the snow as she moved through the town. A silence fell over the town as people rested in their homes, trying to gain some relief to the day.

As she stood outside the town she saw a small light burn in the distance, across a frozen lake. Her feet not moving fast enough as she reached the light, a green flame burning from a post. But nothing around. Anara looked around, trying to decide if this was a trap or if she'd been stood up until she felt a hand touch her shoulder.

Her body reacted as she turned, panic set into her stomach for the briefest moment until she saw Solas's eyes, and eyebrow cocked, "Is something the matter?"

Relief washed over her as she heard his voice, "Oh, no, I was worried. You weren't here so I thought."

"That I had stood you up?" She couldn't find words to say as her mouth opened like a fish trying to find water. Until her arms gave in and her head collapsed, silently agreeing to his statement as she nodded.

His hands touched her face as he looked into her eyes. Looking into her brown depths, he saw the stars shine in them, "I would never do that, and unless you say so, I would never leave you."

His words weren't said to make her feel better, or to encourage her. But were said in honesty and truth, to her and to her character. He brushed aside the stray hairs from her eyes as he looked again, feeling his gaze move into her very being, "Never."

His lips moved closer as his eyes closed, their first kiss would never be enough for him. Not until the end of his days would he look upon their moment and not want more.

He knew inside what he felt, human or no, mage or not. His body had loved her in every way he could conceive and he would spend the rest of eternity proving his love to her.

His lips had touched hers, the spark in their connection rekindled. Tonight he knew, under the stars he would speak of love, and he would feel it completely with her.

Tonight under Fen'Harel, she would be his, forever.


	9. Chapter 9

Hello everyone, I'm apparently in the beginning stages of planning a wedding. I got abit of a bomb dropped on me and it's looking like I'm getting married later in the year. OOPH! That's...That's ALOT of stuff that I need to get figured out in like...8-9 months. Oh man. Wish me some serious luck.

Again, thank you all for the follows and the reviews! I enjoy the reviews and knowing that people enjoy my work. Thank you for the support guys! Wish me luck!

Solas Pulled her closer to him, her body pressed against his. Oh how he loved her, from her brown hair to her soft skin, to the hushed moans escaping her lips. How he enjoyed every moment he spent with her, and how he wished it'd never end.

His hands wrapped around her waist as her hands rested on his chest, Solas slowly deepening his kiss. Not wanting to scare her away with any hasty actions, but despite his best efforts his body didn't take heed to his slowed pace.

She felt him twitch against her, his body hardening against her as he pulled her in closer. Wishing to feel more of her against him, he groaned feeling her react against him. Her hands moved, wandering over his back, feeling his muscles shift under his tunic.

The clear night sky shone like millions of tiny diamonds strewn across the sky. The chill of the mountain causing her skin to shiver. Solas felt her shiver, his hands moved across her arms, leaving a trail of warmth in it's wake. Oh how she missed the feel of a mages touch sometimes. How their magic would flow into yours, entwining and forming into something more. How they could heat your body with their magic, and make you feel things you've never felt before. Oh the things that she hoped to feel as she felt the tingle cross her skin. Oh the things she wanted to have him feel in return.

Her body no longer shook to the cold, but instead to Solas's touch. He knew that too as she quaked in his hands as he ran them over her back, leaving a trail of liquid fire through her veins. He broke the kiss, his lips running lightly over the nape of her neck. The very spot that he saw Commander Cullen stare at earlier he intended to claim it for himself. He planted kisses upon her neck, like planting a flag upon new ground. Solas only wished to claim more of her, to make her his forever.

He heard her moan as he ran his lips gently up her neck, kissing her cheek. "Vhenan. " He spoke, the words acting like a spell, pulling her from her lusted thoughts.

"Come, Emma lath." She felt his body disappear from her, her mouth still hanging open from the feeling that he left on her skin. His hand extended to her, waiting for her to take his hand. Her hands twitched, forgetting what to do, her mind and body were separated at this point. Her eyes focused back to the elf in front of her, his hand extended to her.

Her fingers found their way, gently placed in the palm of his hand, he leaned down gently kissing her hand. His body lead the way, Solas leading her further from the prying eyes of the world, and further from the frozen lake.

His eyes searched the sky, looking upon each constellation, like millions of diamonds thrown into a dark abyss. He had lost himself so many times in the stars, and in the fade, but tonight, now, he would lose himself in Anara.

She looked around, long abandoning her small bundle after the kiss that she felt from Solas. The thought had slipped her mind and she was suddenly curious where the elf was leading her.

"Solas, where are we going?" He smiled to himself as he kept walking.

"Away from the eyes of the world. Until it is only you, me, and the stars above us."

Anara smiled to herself, how it always seemed to be the theme, men and stars. How they always seemed to be so intertwined with each other when it came to her. She could understand the appeal of course, but all that didn't matter now. The trees began to thicken around them , the green glow of veil fire nearby. She noticed the time and attention that Solas put into their get away from the world. Ram leathers and bear furs on the ground, Solas's hand extended to the light, snuffing it out with a gesture.

He turned to her, looking her in the eyes, taking in every feature that he could see. His thumb gently rubbed along her bottom lip, tipping her head back up into a gentle kiss.

She smiled sweetly, this mixed sense of duality that shone through. Sweet and tender, but passionate and rough, like the feel of his hands and the look in his eyes.

Solas sat on the makeshift blankets, pulling her down with him, her hips rested atop his as she sat in his lap. Solas's finger played with a loose curl reveling in the feel and color of it. Her hair and eyes reminding him of the deepest parts of the earth, where rock and clay mingled with dirt. How it seemed to bring him closer to who he was, and who he was meant to be.

Solas's hand reached out, tangling in her hair as he pulled her into another kiss. His free hand running down her back, pulling her body further into his lap. Her legs shifted to the new position on his lap, her body pressing against him, wishing to feel more.

From all the kisses, he didn't need to ask for permission anymore as her mouth opened to him. A battle enraged between the two mages as their magic began to combine again. Feeling the heat within their bodies begin to rise, their tongues clashed against each other. Falling further and further from Solas's original slow pace and deeper into an abyss that they both wished for.

Their hands began to fumble as the kiss became more headed, Solas began to feel his reserve slipping away, a deep growl rising from his throat. He was slipping from his own control, the cool surface of his exterior burned away revealing a more savage nature.

His hands began to tear for clothing, pulling Anara's coat off her shoulders, her hands struggling to break free from the confines. He pulled his lips away from hers, groaning into the air as he felt her hips grind against his erection.

"Vhenan, I cannot keep myself from you any longer. " He breathed, her hands finally slipping from her coat. "But I fear any further and I cannot hold myself back." His temple pressed against hers as she sighed, her hands resting on his shoulders.

A wicked smile spread across her lips as she looked at Solas, "Then don't." She pressed herself closer to him, grinding her hips on his member. Her sweetness burning away as he thrust his hips up into hers, feeling himself press against her womanhood.

" You don't know what you ask for." Solas groaned in the air, his hands gripping her hips as he mindlessly thrust against her.

Her lips met with his neck as she kissed the nape of his neck, making her way to his ear, "Then show me." He could hear that wicked smile in her words, he could hear her begging for him to lose himself. To lose himself in her, like he's always wanted to.

He growled again, deep and guttural; like the sound of a wolf ready to fight. His fingers dug into her hips, tossing her onto her back, the furs breaking her fall as pushed himself on top of her. pressing himself further against her as his lips claimed hers again. This time rougher, as his hands pulled hers in a grip above her head. His kiss bruised her lips as his tongue sought the planes of her neck. Running down her throat and over her clavicle, Solas's free had worked with the lacing on her tunic. His lips leaving burning kisses across her throat, little nips in between kisses.

Solas's hands fumbled with the laces of her tunic, his lips trying to trace a path down with his hands. But his movements were quick, and lacked focus. He growled in aggravation as his hand just tore through the tunic, ripping the seams apart, exposing her skin to the cold air. Her back arched off the furs as Solas's lips traveled down her body. His lips and tongue trying to capture and claim every inch of flesh for himself.

Anara could feel the magic in her body expand as she felt his hands pulling at her tunic, ripping the last shred of fabric. She could feel the heat of it move through her body, burning through to the ground around them. Her hand clawed at the ground just outside their circle, the ground no longer covered in snow. But becoming bone dry to the touch, their combined magic filled the air with heat, a humid heat that was slowly melting the snow around them.

Anara pushed herself from the ground, feeling Solas's tongue run up her body. Her body shivered at the feel of it, until he stopped. An eyebrow raised at her.

"Had Enough?" He asked almost mockingly as he saw her lip twitch at his words. A smirk spread across his lips at his words, but as quickly as it was there, it was gone. Anara pressed her lips against his, as her hands fished for his shirt, roughly pulling it up.

"Enough? Never." She whispered in his ear as she pulled his shirt over his head. Finally after so much time, finally getting to touch him. She pressed herself against him, wanting to feel his skin on hers finally. Her hands ran over the plains of his back, feeling his muscles move, she moaned at the feel of his skin, finally under her touch.

Solas moaned against her shoulder as he felt her skin against his. It had felt like eternity since he saw her memories and felt her presence. Finally, he felt that eternity come to a close as he felt the kindling fire that was her skin.

Anara's body leaned on his, causing Solas to lose his balance, falling backwards onto the furs. She straightened on top of him, looking down over his body, her fingers touching his skin. His skin was smooth, and pale compared to hers. She saw the considerable difference when her hand moved across his chest. She bit her lip, looking down at the elf, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to concentrate, trying to reign himself back in. But she didn't want that. She slowly rocked her hips against him as his hands dug into her thighs, hands running up to her hips, trying to steady her.

She rocked again, pulling the tattered remains of her tunic off, tossing it aside, it was useless now. Her hands ran up his chest, supporting herself enough as she continued to rock her hips against him. Hearing his voice moan and gasp at the feel, waiting for that deep growl as he abandoned his reservations again.

The feel of him pressed against her, moving, rocking, grinding was causing her to lose her breath. Her control over her breathing starting to wane as her breath hitched, a blush spreading across her cheeks. Her body began its ascent as she closed her eyes, a moan escaping her lips as she moved against him. Her body begging for more.

Solas could feel her against him, her movements becoming more vigorous, he knew she was moving herself closer to the edge, and he was not ready to join her. But instead of feeling guilty over it, Solas decided to take in the sight instead. Her hands fumbled around his skin as she kept up her movements. Her hands trying to find a task to accomplish, they wandered their way over his arms that were still gripped on her hips. Feeling the muscles in his arms as they flexed, holding her in place. Until they finally found what they wanted.

Her breathing became heavy as her fingers tried to work on the lacing to his trousers. She had abandoned hope of him being inside her right now. To ride out on this wave with her, she felt selfish wanting this feeling only for herself. Her back arched, the hairs on her arms standing up as she got closer to the edge.

Solas looked as her face began to flush, her eyes closed, her body lost to the feeling surrounding her. He wished to flip her over, to enter her, to ride out with her into this eternity. But he let her have this moment, for he would give her many more like this. Her movement stopped, as if she was trying to stop herself from reaching the edge. Solas wouldn't allow that, a territorial growl came from his lips as her grip tightened on hers hips. Riding her out on his manhood.

Her breath hitched at the feel of him again, as he moved her against him, her hands suddenly losing interest as her eyes shot open. Her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip as Solas savagely moved against her. Harder, and faster, until she had lost all hope of return. His eyes ran over her body, memorizing the sight before him, never wishing to forget it.

She had lost herself in the feel of it, about to tumble down the edge to infinity. She gasped, and moaned at the feel of him until she cried out Solas's name to the stars, finally lost to the feel, and to Solas and his needs.

Solas came up as she was still recovering, her eyes closed to the stars above them. He pulled her in, his lips kissing her neck as she tried to bring her breathing down. Her body still quaking from the feel of her climax, his fingers sought the clasp to her trousers, wanting to complete them both.

Solas felt them unbuckle as his hands came around to backside, his hands slowly sliding them to a point. Anara had pressed her temple against his her breathing finally coming down, here eyes opening to see him, looking questionably at her. She had smiled slowly, her eyes heavy lidded after that experience. He was still rigid and hard against her even now, he didn't need to ask because she already knew the question.

Her weak smile answered him easily as he kissed her again, leading her back down to the furs around them. Solas noticed the area around them was dry, a small slow trickling stream lead away from their small camp.

He had broken away from the kiss, his hands pulling at the trousers that had gathered around her lower hips. She had taken a breath, her throat tightening in nervousness, Solas could sense it, assuring her slowly in his moves that she had nothing to fear.

His fingers had hooked onto her small clothes as he slowly pulled the trousers off. Like slowly unwrapping a gift, Solas saw her as the most precious gift of all. Revealing her body to him, like he had never seen before. She shyly turned away, a blush spreading upon her cheeks. But Solas turned her head to him, "You have no need to be embarrassed." He grabbed her hand, pulling it to his still hardened member, "When you still have this effect on me. " He had finished unlacing his trousers, trying his best not to become shy now after all he had said to her.

A hand ran down her inner thigh, feeling her leg twitch at the feel of his hand. She suppressed a moan as his hand got closer to her womanhood, lightly grazing her skin. His other hand still trying to get himself free from his trousers.

His hand struggled with the trousers, barely slipping them down. He was nervous and excited and it didn't seem to translate well in his abilities to just pull off his trousers. He felt like a rushed and fumbling fool, like this was his first time, and he was trying to rush his way through it. He calmed himself down, trying to dispel all of his concerns.

Anara pushed herself up, looking Solas in the eyes, "Stop worrying Solas..Let me show you.." She leaned in, her lips pressing against his. All his fears and reservations slowly melting away to the feel of her kiss. He moaned as he felt her hands slide down his back, her fingers slowly making their way to his trousers, pulling them down, pooling around his knees. Anara shifted, straddling Solas's hips, her hands touching his skin, memorizing the feel and patterns to the light scars on his body.

Her eyes looked at his, an eagerness and shock visible to her assertiveness. But that all went away when he felt her hands move lower, brushing against his manhood. He groaned at the feel of her hands on him, his eyes closing, " Anara…" The words slipped from his lips, his hands wrapping around her waist, pulling her further onto his hips. She yelped in surprise as Solas pulled her closer, feeling him against the wet heat of her womanhood. Her head lolled as she felt him press against her, words she never spoke slipping from her lips like a chant. As if she were casting a spell upon the world around her, the words clung to them.

" Sahlin, vir him sa…" Solas pulled her into a kiss, feeling himself slowly enter her body. He could feel herself tighten around him, moaning into the kiss, her nails digging into his back. Such excruciating pain he felt for so long wanting to be one with her, replaced with such pleasure. A moan escaped from his lips as he deepened the kiss, pressing himself further. He could feel her pressing herself closer to him, wanting him more and more as he moved.

Solas had stopped, buried by the hilt, waiting for her body to adjust, he knew that she wanted him to lose his reservations. To howl and claw like wild animal, but his first concern was making sure she had adjusted, then to the void with reservations.

She broke their kiss, his lips hovering only inches away from his. "Vhenan." He spoke under his breath as her hands cupped his face, her eyes slowly opening to him.

" Ma'salath.." Her body quaked as she felt him still inside her, her body trembling to him. It had felt that more than just their minds had bridged now, but their bodies had felt everything from the other.

She could feel his heart beat, and the twitches of his muscles through her skin. Oh how she missed mages, it seemed. His touch was electric, setting her skin aflame and her senses in overdrive. How his fingers ran up her spine and caused her skin to bump. How his lips knew what to say, and where to kiss. Like he had known her forever, like he had watched through her dreams and memories.

"_I have seen your memories Vhenan. "_ Her mind remembered as she felt him thrust into her. A gasp escaping her lips as her hands wrapped over his shoulders, holding herself behind his head. " _I have walked your dreams." _He moved again, his hands gripping on her hips, slowly losing himself in the feel of her body. A moan now moving from her quaking lips as Solas kissed her neck. Rocking her hips into each one of this thrusts, building them up. " _I have felt your heart, and I want more."_

"More…" She whispered into his ear as Solas's grip became tighter, responding to her plea. Her hands ran down his arms, feeling the strength within his body as her back arched to each thrust.

Solas knew that she had adjusted, and that she knew what she was in for. With a deep growl against her skin accompanied by a bite on her neck. His body grew impatient with his slowed pace and only wanted to ravage her, finally allowing himself to it.

Solas's body pushed her back down onto the furs as his hands pulled hers back above her head, clasping them shut between his hand. His free hand pulled her leg up over his hip as he thrust into her. His body becoming more out of pace as he lost himself in the feel of it all. Her back arched off the furs, meeting up into each of his savage thrusts. Her body begging for more contact, for more of him.

Solas felt himself turn inside, like a great beast breaking free he felt himself drawing closer to the edge. But he would not go alone.

Commander Cullen looked throughout all of Haven searching for the two Apostates, certain that they had fled. He stood there over the battlements, staring at the breach. The bright green source still burning in the sky. He would not let himself resign to the idea that they had fled. Not after what he had seen between them the first time.

What he had felt right there for the woman who meekly spoke to him hours before. He could sense her aggressive behavior, but he knew that was something he may never see from her. She had been a Circle mage, of course she'd fear Templar's, even Ex-Templar's. No matter what, his abilities were there like some saddened badge to wear forever.

Cullen stared out across the frozen lake, the light from the clear night made everything a perfect view.

His eyebrows furrowed as he looked into the distance, the sight of a pack on the ground gaining his attention. Cullen held his sword close as he looked down at the gate, deciding whether to go out and venture, or to stay here and hope Cassandra wouldn't notice the mages absences.

Cullen decided against upsetting Cassandra, he didn't want to provoke her ire. But instead took up the idea of investigating that situation at hand. Perhaps hoping in the back of his mind to walk across what he did last time. Cullen became upset with himself, thinking about what he had witnessed outside the Temple of Sacred Ashes. How it aroused him, apart of himself felt ashamed, while another part found it exhilarating. He followed the tracks in the snow, coming across the small bundle. Two apples and some cloth, not much to fund an escape to say the least. He had his doubts suddenly, maybe they were...doing that...Maybe they were just enjoying the stars like people do. But maybe, MAYBE they were doing _Other_ things.

"Oh maker.." He said, his hand hitting his temple as he his what shame he had. Maker help him if this was the person he was to become. A perverted Templar watching couples in the woods. " Maker preserve me…" He took an apple from the bundle tossing it to himself as he kept walking.

He moved along the snow, following two different sets of tracks moving through the woods. The night was cold and clear, every star in the sky out tonight for viewing. He sighed to himself, remembering the days at Kinloch Hold, and how the stars shined there as well. Cullen turned back, looking to the Breach, it's echo still in the sky, the apple in his hand met his lips as he took a bite. A cold and bitter taste to say the least, but food was food after all and in this moment, he needed something to hold onto.

He felt the snow begin to thin, the sound of the compact snow began to slush, slowly trickling it's way down the hill. He looked confused at the ground, the ground still slush as he moved, the tracks he followed gone.

He struggled with his movement as he kept trying to walk forward, each step a loud patter of water from his feet. His hands reached out, trying to determine what had happened. His hands felt like they had passed through a barrier. The heat within it humid, his hand sweating inside his glove as he pulled it out. He fought desperately trying not to suppress the magic he felt inside the barrier. Their magic had grown stronger in each others presence, something he feared could destroy them all.

Cullen stood there outside the barrier, removing his gloves, finally deciding to step inside, passing the point of no return.

It felt unbearably humid in there, he could feel himself sweat through his layers, his clothing becoming an uncomfortable burden. Cullen struggled with his movements as he tried to peel away layers, maker it was hot in here. He felt like he had wandered for all eternity, searching through some unbearable desert or what he thought Seheron was like. His armor was burdensome, he had abandoned it a ways back with his sword. He trusted his abilities, and knew he could undo the magic if need be. The fur on his shoulders became too much, it tickled against his face and only seemed to absorb his sweat. He shrugged off the material, maker why did he come in here after all? Of course, to avoid Cassandras anger…

At this point items had become scattered, by the end of it he was a tattered mess. The small mess of cotton he found wiped the sweat from his brow as he kept moving. The ground felt bone dry, like it was under the gaze of the sun for hours. His legs ached, and his body was rigid, from the sweat, he wanted this to be over, but he had lost his way along time ago it felt. His back pressed against a tree as he wiped the sweat from his brow, his hair an unkempt mess. " Maker, just let this end.."

He could hear a rustle in the distance. Hoping that he had miraculously found a way out, back to the blisteringly cold of the mountain. He slumped in a mix of defeat and triumph as he headed towards the direction. Stopping only when a moan stirred his loins. His knees buckled his triumph only turning back into defeat. "Maker not again…"

He knew the sound from last time, and was met with loud grunts in the distance. His reasonable self wanted to run away and lay in the snow, but the other part, his curious side, his darker side wanted to see more.

He laid low to the ground, apart of himself screaming in the back of his mind, telling him to run. But that reasonableness ran away at the sight of curves and naked breasts, his erection hardening at the sight of her body. Her legs angled perfectly over hips as she met up in each thrust. Cullen sighed quietly as he closed his eyes, hand reaching for his now burning erection. The heat of the barrier no longer burning him up from the inside. But instead he was being burned alive by his desire for the mage that moaned from each savage thrust by Solas.

How the sweat moved on her body, his eyes focusing on each droplet moving it's way down her flat stomach. Looking at the bruises that would form on her neck, or how hard Solas's hands gripped her thighs.

Cullen became surprised by their roughness, Anara's nails digging into Solas's back as he growled, biting her shoulder in response. Something he would've never expected from the cool minded elf and the simple spoken woman. But his body could care less what his mind was trying to process as he watched the two consummate.

Solas grunted, thrusting into Anara as she moaned loudly, her back arching, her breasts heaving as she moaned.

His lips moved down, capturing one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue moving across the hardened nub as she nearly screamed. She bit down hard on her bottom lip, trying to keep herself from rocking on his manhood. But her reservations lasted for so long, as his lips moved to the other side, giving both the attention they desired.

She gritted her teeth, rocking herself against him as he groaned, slamming into her once again. He lost his balance, slamming his hand into the ground to get his balance back as he kept moving. He could feel himself quickening, moving closer to the edge as he groaned into Anara's shoulder. She felt him swell inside of her, brushing against her, his tip ramming deep into her, causing her body to jerk and ache for more.

Solas moved more, his arms pulling her hips up, deepening his thrusts. Knowing from her memories and dreams in the fade just what this did to her.

She yelped, feeling him deeper than before, brushing against a spot that caused her hands to clench and her knuckles whiten. Solas could feel her clench against him, knowing that he didn't have much time left as he kept up his thrusts.

" Ma sa'lath." He groaned into her shoulder, reaching his peak, bringing her with him.

Anara turned her head to the side, her eyes looking out into the distance. Cullen sat there stone faced and dead as her eyes found his. A wicked smile spreading across her lips as she looked over the Templar. Her tongue licking her lips as she saw his hand in his trousers. She had reached her peak with Solas. Her body clenching around his member, as she began to ride out her climax with him.

" Anara, ma'arlath.." He groaned, releasing his seed deep within her. His body shaking as he rode out his climax.

Her eyes never left Cullen's as she felt her body clench and move against Solas. The final moments of her climax coming over her.

Cullen's body had hardened at the sight of her climax. It had been so long since he had felt the presence of a woman. But her gaze stared through to his very soul, stripping away all guilt and leaving only need in it's wake. How he wished for her to be enveloped around him. To have her body against his, to feel her ride him out into completion, as he followed closely behind her.

Her eyes closed finally, feeling Solas's lips upon her cheek, whispering words in her ear as she smiled gently, kissing the elf on the nose.

Cullen felt the heat begin to die around him, the cold sneaking back in as the barrier died down. He scuffled across the ground, embarrassment spreading across his face like his blush as he suddenly searched for the layers he discarded earlier.

Anara laughed into Solas's ear, "We had another visitor this time." Her eyes looked up to the stars, hands spread across his back, comforted in his warmth.

Solas picked his head up, looking into the empty woods, "Was it Cullen again?"

He laughed into her collarbone, The Commanders Templar power was his own, like each mages unique signature of magic. The Commanders abilities licked out against their magic, almost like a saddened lover wishing for a waiting hand. She laughed out into the stars above them, as he kept it to her skin. Solas's hands gathering a rams fur and pulling it over their bodies. As he rolled off, staring into the stars, her head on his shoulder, and her hand resting on his chest. As they both drifted into the night, listening to the life and world around them serenade them into sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Solas looked up to the stars, his eyes looking over the fading lights of Fen'harel, the dread wolf. He felt a knot within his stomach as he stared into the sky. His mind searching for answers to the feeling within himself, and coming back with no real answer. His body couldn't understand what he was feeling as he laid there, and his mind didn't want to answer. he shook his head, pulling his eyes away from the cluster of stars above them. His mind shifting to the attention of the warm body beside him. He had enjoyed Anara's company, her presence there with him, even when she was asleep.

Her breath was shallow as she slept, barely audible to the sounds around him. He pulled her close, his lips pressing against her temple as he held her close. Listening to the soft sigh that escaped her lips, resting on his skin. She was deceivingly warm compared to the cold around them, the furs only keeping the heat in. Her skin burned like the smoldering remains of coals, leading only to one's downfall if not careful. He could feel his concern fade with her touch, and her warmth, regardless of it's deceptiveness. He watched as her lips parted and closed, letting out sighs and small groans. Her nose would wiggle like a rabbit when she felt a small breeze. He smiled to himself, his arms never wanting to let go of her, holding her as close as he can. He feared that she was an illusion, a trick of the light or of his mind. So he held her close, if she was a dream he would never wake. Not from this, not from the feeling that he had for her. A human.

He turned to the sky, watching the night slowly make its exit. As the hues and colors of an awakened world began to bloom again.

Cullen walked through the gates of Haven, his body and mind wracked from the night. A sense of shame and disbelief washing over him. He had appeared a fool, thinking he could've gotten away with it forever. His mind wandered as he lugged his armor through the town, sword in his sheath. He would retire from his men for the day, gather himself, his thoughts, and in time, reign himself in from his curiosity.

He could feel the itch in the back of his mind, the tingle that he had been avoiding. It had felt so long since he had Lyrium. He had wished to be his old self once again, to be the Templar and Commander that everyone expected. He felt the sweat on his brow as he thought about it, the temptation of it. Burning through his veins and coursing through him, strong enough to challenge any mage. Strong enough for her.

Cullen groaned as he entered his tent, looking at Cassandra standing there, looking at his Lyrium kit.

"Commander, you've been gone awhile." Cassandra turned, her eyes looking over the commander almost judgingly.

"I had an errand to run, wanted to scout the area." He lied through his teeth, hoping that Cassandra would leave it at that.

"Commander, if you're not up to the task.."

"I am. Just not, right now. I have, alot on my mind." Cullen dropped his armor on the floor, taking the kit from Cassandras hands, looking at the old wooden box.

" Commander, you don't need to go back for the inquisition. It is your choice." She resided to his fate as she turned from him, walking to the tent door, letting the cold air in. "I suggest Commander that you take a bath and clear your thoughts. We need you at your best."

The tent closed, Cullen was left to his thoughts, oh how he hated the idea of it.

Cassandra had walked around the town, taking over for Cullen for the time being. She ensured that the men had trained well for the day, looking over from time to time. Looking for the one they all called Herald.

Anara had expected more commotion, more people noticing her disappearance, but it felt that she was capable of coming and going as she pleased. " I suppose there's one thing good about being called, The Herald of Andraste." She turned to Solas, who had the ram's fur draped across his shoulders, keeping in his heat, " They don't seem to care if I go out and shag in the woods like some druid."

Solas had joined in her laughter as they walked through the town, her coat tied tightly around her body, her torn tunic no long discarded.

Solas turned to her, still laughing, "Maybe someday Vhenan, we won't have to hide out in the woods."

She smiled at his proposition, turning towards him, "But then everyone would hear us in this tiny town." A smile spread across their lips, remembering last night. Solas began to lean in, about to whisper something to her until the flash of a read head came to vision.

" There you are! We've been looking for you." Anara turned her head, looking at the Spymaster.

" I was out, Solas and I were getting some..Leather and fur, for the troops." She didn't know if Leliana had believed her lie or just humored her.

" Of course, Commander Cullen had errands to run as well, he should be in the War room as well. We'll see you there in a little while?"

She nodded to Leliana, "Yes, of course, just let me get rid of these."

Solas had given Leliana a nod as she turned to leave. The Spymaster becoming suspicious of the elf and his motives.

"Then I will see you later Vhenan. You know where I'll be."

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips, "Of course I do." She watched as Solas turned, her eyes undressing him as he walked away.

"Is there something going on between you three?" Anara shrieked at the sound of the dwarf standing behind her.

"What!?" She turned, looking Varric in the face, his eyebrow cocked at her.

"Curly came back a few hours ago in a tiff. Then you and Chuckles show up. Gotta say, that's mighty suspicious."

She laughed to herself, trying to dispel the dwarfs overactive imagination, "I must say Varric, with that kind of imagination you can write a whole new romance series. A desperate love triangle between two mages and a Templar, sounds almost tragic don't you think?"

Varric chuckled, shaking his head, " I gotta hand it to you, you can pitch a story. But no, romance hasn't been my forte." Varric waved his arm, moving away from Anara as he walked back to his encampment.

" But it's so tragic! You could revolutionize the whole industry!" She shouted back at Varric, attempting to make the dwarf feel embarrassed. He just waved his arm, taking note to her words as he left.

"Damn, that was close." She mumbled to herself as she carried the leathers to the blacksmith, dropping them on the ground, "Heard you needed leather for armor." She heard missives and thank you's pour out from the mouths of the smiths, giving them more than what they needed.

She began to walk back to her hut, her coat no longer helping her keep the cold from affecting her body. She crossed her arms, hoping not to gain attention as she entered the door. She shivered as she raced around the room, trying to find something to put on, finding extra tunics in ranges of colors and materials. Her face twisted in confusion as she looked at the Plaideweave, yellow….No….

She had settled for a darkened grey, she tied the sash to her coat, preparing for an onslaught of cold wind waiting for her. But was instead met with the a cold silence, the wind had stilled and the sun had broken free. The light shining off the snow like a mirror, the only downfall she could think of right now.

She had moved towards the Chantry, knowing little of what awaited her there. She walked past the training grounds, her eyes looking over the seal of the inquisition on the door, nailed atop the crest of the Chantry. She remembered looking at that emblem when she was younger, how she rebelled against the Chantry and it's ways in the circle. How just that image could bring it all back.

It was raining in Ostwick, the seas outside churned in anger. The ships that came to port feared the rocky shores of the Circle tower. The bridge that lead to it had slipped into the waves, leaving the circle an abandoned island among the sea.

She had been angry, she remembered. She had made it through her Harrowing, and had recently assaulted the circles Knight-Commander. Some of the Templar's had demanded justice, that she be made tranquil, and the mages stood in silent obedience to their wishes.

Her magic had flared with her mood, as she lashed out against all that was around her. Splinters of wood and pages from books everywhere as she lost herself to the rage she felt.

" We only wish to hear the truth in front of the maker." A younger Templar walked forward his hands in front of him defensively. " Please sister, we must take you to the Chantry in Ostwick to face these charges."

" To the void with the maker, and to the void with you." She shouted across the room at the younger man who braced himself from a book, "You have NO right to call me sister after all this time. You abandoned me here, you all abandoned me here and now you expect me to submit?" The Templar's at the door had no experience against her magic. None strong enough to suppress her emotions.

" You had magic…" His words trying to justify.

"I was 8, and I've been in this circle for 17 years, I will not justify myself to anyone. Not to you." Her finger pointed to the Chantry cleric that stood at the door, "Not you." She pointed to the Knight-Captain, " And most certainly not YOU." She pointed at the young Templar standing there.

"Anara, please.."

" No, Tobias. I will not. I will not submit, not after what that man did to this circle, what he did to the mages here. Tell your maker of my crimes, he will see that I was right in defending myself. "

" You can be made Tranquil if you cannot control yourself." He urged to her under his breath.

" Make me Tranquil then, but I will not bend my knee to any of you." She shouted across the room, the Templar's uneasy by her words, the Clerics face twisted in anger as he turned away, leaving the mage to her fate.

" Anara, what have you done?" The young Templar looked at her, disappointment in his face. " You were sent here to be in the grace of the maker."

She whispered to herself, just loud enough for him to hear, "Young Tobias, the maker has no power here…"

Anara snapped herself back from her memories, feeling as if her hand would burn right through the wooden door to the Chantry. She braced it, opening to the empty aisle, her feet ringing through the halls. The war room was open to her presence.

Cullen stood there in silence, his back straightening to Anara's presence. He had noticed she changed her tunic, remembered the disrepair the last one was in.

" May I present Commander Cullen," His mind came back as he heard Cassandra introduce him, glad that she didn't know what has already transpired between them. He had tried to sound knowledgeable, and assuring. Trying to push the thoughts and memories of last night from his mind as Cassandra continued her introductions.

"This is Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat." Cullen was suddenly glad for the Antivans presence, making it easier to shift the attention away from himself to other people.

There was a curt nod between them, the Ambassador being the best diplomat that she can with the at times unruly mage.

"And of course, you know sister Leliana. She is our Spymaster." Anara had pulled her gaze over each person, giving them the acknowledgement and attention that they needed. Whatever diplomacy she learned seemed to come in handy at this moment. Until her eyes met with Cullen's, a piercing gaze that left the Commander feeling naked and afraid.

" Pleased to meet you all." the words rolling off her tongue, her eyes still in contact with Cullen's. A smirk appeared at the corner of her mouth as she looked towards Cassandra, paying attention to the Warrior.

They had argued between themselves for awhile, trying to decide between mages or Templar's.

Anara had understood the mages plight more. Never fully trusting all Templar's unfortunately, But Cullen kept trying to make his peace with her, trying to convince Anara that Templar's were a better option.

" Enough power poured into that mark…"

"Might destroy us all, Templar's could suppress the breach, weaken it…"

She could feel her teeth clench and her jaw tighten, she couldn't agree to this decision. No matter what, she wanted nothing to do with this idea.

" They're calling you the Herald of Andraste. " Cassandra spoke, looking at the mage, watching the mixed look of confusion and anger wash over.

" Just how am I the Herald of Andraste?" She wanted nothing to do with the Chantry, the Templar's, nothing. But it looked like the more she tried to push it away the more it was being forced back upon her.

"They have also heard about the woman in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste. " Cassandra's tone was trying to reassure her of the title. Trying not to anger the woman next to her.

" It's quite the _Title_ isn't it, how do you feel about that?" Anara had resided to her piercing stare as she looked through Cullen. Knowing well the things that he's witnessed, she cocked an eyebrow at him, trying to find her most seductive voice.

" I _Like_ it." Her hands braced the table as she leaned forward, giving Cullen a view to admire. Her lips turning into a smirk at the Templar.

She looked over the women in the room, all of them deciding on their next move. Leliana made it known of their position outside the Chantry, she dropped the name of Mother Giselle, a Chantry cleric. Anara breathed deep, knowing that there was no way to avoid confrontation with the Chantry, regardless of her stance. She stood there, agreeing minimally to the terms that Leliana created, she would talk to her. But she would not like it, even though her assistance will be invaluable.

She had looked at the war table, the map spread across it staring at the Hinterlands. Knowing that she was the travel there with her, friends? Comrades? She didn't know what to call them just yet. But she had to make due with what she had.

Cassandra was strong, but stubborn and hard headed. She believed in what she felt was right after so many years following others ideas of right and wrong. She had become the woman that she is now. Creating the inquisition and being in the forefront of leading it.

Varric seemed to live his life by his own rules. Doing whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, without the fear of a church or family coming down on him. Or at least that's what she thinks she knows about him. He's witty, and prone to banter, but he's nostalgic beyond belief. Different from the hard hitting Cassandra.

And Solas, Solas…

He had reached out to her in her darkest time and pulled her to the light. He had wanted her in every way he could imagine. He had known the world both inside and out. He was cool headed and logical, not letting his emotions take control like she let herself. He was passionate, and aggressive, but also calm and collected. In the presence of those around him, he was one thing, but in her presence and hers alone, he was another.

The duality that they both seemed to share in each others presence. How their demeanor changed when in private. How she had loved that passion and all that aggression. How he called her Vhenan, how she felt that she had loved that man.

Her eyes stared at the map empty minded, they're decisions and conversation had ended, but she stood there, still off in the distance.

"Anara?" She looked up at the Commander, no one else left in the room, "I wish to apologize..I.."

She bent back over, her tunic opening up as she looked Cullen in the eyes, "Why Commander Cullen, why on earth should you apologize?"

She cocked an eyebrow at him, biting her bottom lip as she quickly turned from the table. Leaving Cullen to stew within his own problems.

She had left the Chantry, letting the Commander think upon his actions and words. She had walked back towards Adan's determined to find Solas. She came across the elf standing there, staring up at the Breach, his mind somewhere else than here. "Solas?" She looked at him, his attention was upon the mark in the sky and it's power. But everything else about him wasn't there, like he was lost or distant.

He shook his head, his movements were trying to collect themselves as he turned looking at Anara, "Yes Vhenan?"

She turned to him, a sly smile moving across her lips, " I think there is something that you and I should talk about.."

Solas nodded, motioning his head towards the hut, her back pressed against the door as it opened, Solas slowly leaning in as it closed behind them.

Their words were their own, talks of the Hinterlands and Solas's experience there. There wasn't much to say about Ferelden, Anara had very little experience here. What she had known was what she learned from across the water in Ostwick.

The 5th blight started in the Kocari Wilds, and King Cailin died during Ostagar. She had passed her Harrowing by several months when news of the blight had reached them. Lothering was lost, Ostagar was lost, and Loghain was a traitor to his king and country.

She had heard the howls of Mabari, and felt the cold on her cheeks. Ferelden was cold, harsh, and unforgiving. But it's people were warm, and pleasant, despite all their loss. This she had learned personally.

She had learned of the Hero of Ferelden and King Alistair.

Ellandra Cousland, betrayed by the Howes and conscripted into becoming a Grey Warden. She had heard many tales of the woman from Highever. How she slayed the Archdemon, how she had won the heart of the King, and became the Queen of Ferelden.

She had heard the stories of talking dark spawn, of the two factions that fought for dominance. She had heard of the Queen taking up the banners against the evil that fought. And how they were subsequently defeated.

She was called The Hero of Ferelden, The Queen of Ferelden, Arlessa of Denerim and Commander of the Grey. She was fierce, strong and humble, she was noble. The one thing that Anara felt no longer ran in her blood.

Trevelyan of not, she held the name. But it seemed to be more of a mark of shame than anything else.

Abandoned from her family to the circle, she had cursed her name many times. How the Templars would mock it in Ostwick. Trevelyan, the horse that had stood so proud was beaten and broken after so many years. She had silenced her voice to those around her, becoming the thing that she hated so many years ago. Weak, compliant, submissive. She had remembered the spark of life that flowed through her, and the defiance that ran with it.

Solas grabbed her hands, pulling her away from her thoughts, bringing her back. His fingers brushed under her chin, pulling her lips close. " You let your mind wander to dark times Vhenan." His lips pressed against hers, sweetly kissing her, reminding her that she wasn't alone. "Don't let your mind wander like that, instead let us think of other things, other plans." A smirk spread across his lips as he looked her in the eyes. Pulling her in for another kiss, giving her untold promises with each passing moment.

She had smiled, fully and happily with the elf, they both continued to talk, to plot, to plan their next move together.

Cullen had to himself some serious thought, what _WAS_ he apologizing for? Curiosity wasn't the worst thing he could imagine, stumbling across them wasn't any wrong doing. Even though he knew the first time was an accident, the second he was searching for it. Why not? Anara was an attractive woman.

He tried to reason out why he felt what he felt, why he seemed so infatuated with her. He had become lost in his mind thinking about the mage that he hardly knew. Knowing only so little about her, it seemed to drive him mad. Solas had known so much about her it felt, but Cullen could barely scrape the surface.

"Commander, a moment of your time please." Cullen looked up from the fire burning out in the training yard. His eyes looked over the sweeping figure of Anara, standing there arms crossed as she looked at him, impatience in her eyes.

He had stood up, expecting a tirade from the mage. But was instead met with hospitality. "Yes Lady Anara?" Cullen tried to pull his nicest self from his thoughts, wishing not to further sully his relationship with the mage.

" I had some questions regarding Ferelden, I have heard from around that you're from these parts." She had began to walk, Cullen following without hesitation.

"Yes, but so is everyone who lives in Haven. We _are_ in Ferelden my lady." Cullen wandered next to her, trying to gauge her mood.

" I know that, but you already know I'm from the Free Marches. All I know about Ferelden is general history of Thedas. 5th blight, hero of Ferelden, King Alistair and such as that. But I need a perspective of someone _from_ here. I have heard you were stationed near Redcliffe and the Hinterlands. I need that perspective Commander."

She had walked into the Chantry, her feet making it's way towards the war room, "I know nothing of the land, besides that there is a lake and a castle. I figured since you've been there you would know more." She turned, her hand on the door, "Or do I need to find another person?"

Cullen felt himself shift, not expecting her choice of words. He brought himself together, his heels almost clicking as he stood up straight, "Of course not my lady."

" Good." She said, her tone serious as she opened the door, the light not bright enough for the room. "So then Commander, down to the brass tax." She had shrugged off the heavy coat, throwing it on Orlais.

Cullen stopped in his tracks, feeling as if he had stepped into a trap. He had paused, his eyes wandering as she had taken off her coat.

"Commander?" She had spoken up. looking at Cullen, "Is there a problem?" Her head cocked to one side as she raised an eyebrow. Cullen didn't know what to say, problem? Maker no! There's no problem at all…

She had worn the same grey tunic she had earlier, but this time paired with a worn out skirt, more frayed than anything. He could feel himself trying to find the door, knowing that this wasn't a good thing in front of him.

"Commander Cullen." Her voice stopped trying to sound official, now that they were out of the eyes and ears of those around them. Her hands braced the table behind her as she leaned back against the heavy wood.

" It seems Commander that you have a little bit of a secret. Don't you think Solas?" A smirk came across her lips as she looked at Cullen, a look of panic coming to his face.

" Yes _Vhenan_, a secret indeed."


	11. Chapter 11

Solas seemed to step from the fade itself, putting himself between Cullen and the door. Knowing that the Templar would try to run away. He cursed himself, he knew it was a trap, and it was all along. He cursed at how good she was at acting the part, pretending diplomat and leader. When really all along this was some sly ruse to get him alone without suspicion.

" Don't worry Commander, we're not going to kill you or anything like that." Anara leaned back on the table, the skirt riding up her legs. Exposing more flesh to Cullen's eyes. His first reaction to the situation was something sinister between the mages. He had been without Lyrium for some time. His powers were draining slowly around him. He could try to suppress their magic if he tried, but he had no guarantee.

"There's no point using your abilities Commander, we can feel it, slowly fading like the night sky." Solas stood there, his back braced against the door now. Cullen tried not to panic, the situation he didn't know if it was escalating or falling apart anymore. But his fight or flight was slowly kicking in, and he didn't know which one he'd choose.

" Commander," She pulled his attention back as he searched the room in panic. " We only came here to talk Commander, we have no intention of harming you."

Cullen tried to calm down, her eyes focusing on him, and him alone.

" We know about your….Indiscretion? Voyeurism? I'm not sure what to call it exactly. But Solas and I discussed it. To say the least, I have a proposition for you."

Solas still stood there in silence, his eyes never leaving her.

" I think, _Commander_ that there is some, tension between us all. All I'm suggesting is, that we take it out."

Cullen was dumbfounded, struggling with his words, "What you're suggesting is.."

"Sex, Commander. Simple as that." She had crossed one ankle over the other, the conversation simple and easy to her. Cullen couldn't understand how this kind of talk was simple to anyone.

"Between you and...him?" Cullen was still confused to the situation, what were they exactly suggesting?

" Me and him, me and you, you and him. Does it really matter? All fine details commander." She cocked an eyebrow at him, " Why Commander, do you not think I'm attractive?"

"Maker no! That's not the poi…." Cullen shut his mouth, biting down on his lip, oh maker he's digging himself deeper into this hole.

She pushed herself off the table, languidly moving towards the Commander. " So then, you admit you _have_ been watching us?" Her fingers touched the breast plate, dragging their way up. She leaned in close, whispering in his ear, " Did you enjoy it? I could tell the last time."

She pulled herself away, biting her lip as she looked over his body. " Under all that armor, those titles you are _still_ a man." She turned away, making her way back to the table, " And a man, has needs." She beckoned him, her fingers silently pleading for him to come closer. He was lost from his conscious, his body moving freely without hesitation.

He stepped closer, and closer, his body almost pressing against her's, Cullen was lost for words, " What have you done to me? You have bewitched me.."

He could feel himself pulling closer to her, feeling her legs spread as he fell in between, feeling her body against him.

Cullen's hand came up and braced her cheek, his thumb finding it's way across her cheek bone. He could feel his lips inching closer, his body becoming lost to the feeling that was going to consume him.

Anara's eyes closed as she felt him get closer, his free hand grasping for hers on the table. Her lips parted as she let a gasp escape her mouth, Cullen so close, his body hard plains against hers.

His lips lightly brushed against her's, feeling her pull against him. The passion and love that she promised threatening to drown him in a sea of want.

" What have you done?" He asked, his eyes still closed, his lips achingly close.

He could feel his body stir from the light kiss alone. Maker, he worried she would think of him as a school boy, eager to kiss his first girl.

She leaned in closer, he could feel the heat from her lips, from her body radiate outwards, washing over him. His lips struggling to touch hers, maker how he wanted her, how he wished to be rid of this guilt that filled him. They didn't chastise him like a child, but instead allowed him the freedom of it. To the freedom of what he felt.

But it was _Them_ that gave him the freedom of it. Not her, Cullen pulled his lips away, his body still against hers. He struggled with his internal battle, his conscious staging a coup against his body. His voice trembled as he looked at her, eyes close eagerly awaiting a hungry kiss.

" I...I cannot..Do this.." He looked back and forth between Solas and Anara. Trying to carefully select his words with the mages in the room. He was no longer able to use his abilities, even if he wanted to. His concentration was off, his body feeling painfully aroused, his thought only on relieving himself of the feeling.

He pulled away slowly, back away from the wooden war table. Anara stood there, her arms bracing the edge as a sly grin came across her lips.

" It seems that the dear Commander has some restraint in him yet."

Cullen could feel her eyes on him, like some great mountain cat stalking it's prey. He could feel himself backing away as she sauntered forward, step after step, getting closer as he tried to give distance.

" We could help him with that." He heard the voice of the elf in his ear, his hands wrapping around his shoulders, keeping Cullen in place. Anara took each step in her own time, sizing him up a smirk playing across her lips. Cullen felt so far away from his escape, the distance to the door only seemed to be increasing as he felt Anara's gaze directly upon him.

"Come Commander. You don't need to be so _hard_ on yourself." He could feel her hands touching the breast plate again on his chest. Her breath deep as she closed her eyes, " What I wouldn't _give_ to feel under this armor."

Her voice was sumptuous; seducing him further, her lips against his ear, " Solas doesn't even have to join, it can just be you and me." She looked over at Solas, merely inches away. "Solas enjoys a good show as well."

He had heard her giggle in his ear as she pulled away, "So then Commander, why can't you do it?"

His mind struggled with his words as the mage grilled him, wishing he was free from this predicament. " I….I cannot share you. I cannot compete.."

She pulled back, a look of surprise on her face. "Compete? What is this a melee tourney? No my dear, there is no competing." He could feel the grip on his shoulders loosening as Solas took a step back. She had given him the distance that he wanted, moments from letting himself be consumed by them both.

" There is only, satisfaction Commander." She had made her way back to the table, her attention back on the Templar. " But it seems that you aren't the sharing type." She gave a disappointed sigh, briefly letting him think he was off the hook.

" Tis a pity though Commander." He was back under the spotlight of the two.

" A pity indeed." He heard Solas behind him, the tension filling him again as he stood between the two mages.

Anara tilted her head, looking at Cullen, her fingers resting on her legs as she spoke. Her fingers curled, dragging their way up her leg, slowly entangling in the skirt. Exposing her skin to the Commanders eyes, " I would've _Loved_ to have gotten to know you better." Cullen eyes tried to pry away from the sight of her thighs, looking at her muscular legs. Imagining them wrapped around him as he slammed her into the war table. " And I think Commander, that you would've _loved_ to have gotten to know me better."

She bit her lip as she looked over the Commanders body, the straining hardness betraying him to her games of coy.

Her hand beckoned out to Cullen, tempting him to come closer. But he fought with himself, with his body and with his urges. Drawing himself away from the bewitching woman. How she had power of him, how she was a temptress in the flesh, a desire demon dragging him to his doom.

Cullen pulled himself away, a look of disappointment on her face as she looked at the Templar. But it was made up as Solas pushed past the Commander. Wasting no time to be back in the arms and against the body of his Vhenan.

His hands reached up to Anara's face, pulling her lips in for a heated kiss. Lifting her legs onto the table Solas pressed himself into her, pressing her back against his body. Cullen heard a moan escape her lips as Solas took the spot that was originally intended for Cullen. Solas broke the kiss, both of their gazes turning to Cullen, still standing there in silence and awe of them.

Anara bit her lip, looking at the Commander standing there in silence, " Commander? Care to join us, or will you hide in your tent?" She smiled a wicked smile filled with pent desires and unhindered pleasure. How he wished to go over there, tear Solas from her grasp and pin her to the table with his body.

Cullen fought with himself, his body struggling with his decision. He took a step back, trying to separate himself from the mages. Their magic together was drawing him in, overpowering his senses. He felt his inhibitions begin to slip and fade under the feel of their magic, fearing their true power together.

His mind made it's decision, but his body disagreed. He rushed for the door, his hands pressed against it as he fought himself one last time.

" Remember Commander," He turned to look at Anara, her legs wrapping around Solas's hips, " You're only a man, and a man has needs."

Her attention pulled away from Cullen's frame as he left, shutting the door behind him. The back of his head hit the door as he heard a loud groan fill the room that he just left. He forced his feet to move forward, leaving the Chantry, leaving them to their unspent passion. Something he felt, he would kick himself for perhaps the rest of his days.

He had retired to his tent, wishing for his privacy once again. Wishing never to leave his tent for anything less than the town of Haven burning down. Privacy was a precious commodity that he didn't have at this time, wishing for his night to fade into the distance and the memories with it to fade too.

He had barely kissed her, his lips brushing against hers gently. Feeling the warmth and gentleness that would've been given without a moments hesitation.

How he would regret his decisions now. How he regretted it the moment he stepped out of that room. The mages drawing him in, both their magic dragging him along like a long awaited intoxication. How he wished more than anything to possess Anara, to be as close, if anything closer than Solas. It killed him, seeing the elf lift her onto the table, his body closing the distance that his body failed to close.

He remembered her hand in his, how she pulled him closer and closer in each passing second. It seemed Cullen would either give into the temptation presented by the mages, or spend the rest of his days resisting their sirens call. How conflicted he felt, give in or resist, fight or fall.

He knew in his decision that he won't be able to just move on with life. He would be teased and tested constantly by the pair with competitive and lustful glances. Oh how his life was going to be miserable from this night on. His head hit his mat on the ground of his tent, his body aching for her touch, but he ignored his needs. Pressing instead his need of sleep. He knew he would need his strength for the battle to come between him and the mages that would torment him.

Anara laughed into the room as Solas joined her. " Do you actually pity him?" Solas asked, his eyes looking up, his lips on her collarbone.

" Of course, no man should have THAT much sexual frustration. Luckily for me, I don't have to worry about that." She smiled as Solas grabbed her hips, pulling her back into his body. His hand running up her outer thigh, the other tangled in her hair as his lips found hers in a passionate kiss.

" You must admit Solas, It will be fun." She looked into his eyes, feeling him press himself against her. His rocking hips causing her to lose her breath, sighing contently.

"Indeed Vhenan, as you said, he is a man." His hands slipped up her thighs, her skirt moving up as well, allowing him better access as his fingers freed his manhood from his trousers.

Solas loved a good show, and she put on a good one, regardless of the Commanders response. Solas enjoyed the cat and mouse game that she played so well, pretending to be coy or wanton.

His eyes filled with pent up aggression and lust for her, wishing only to be one with her again. He positioned himself at her entrance, leaning down to whisper in her ear, " And a man, has needs."

His hands came to grip her outer thighs, holding her in place as he entered her. A moan coming from her lips as he paced himself, trying not to end it too soon. Their bodies entwined on the hardwood table, the maps and cursors finding their way to the floor. The inquisitions strategy outside their personal needs, it meant nothing in this moment. Only reminders on the floor to be strewn about.

The morning broke through, the tent, no type of canvas heavy enough to rid the light from his eyes.

Cullen braced for the world that awaited him outside his tent, and the possible never ending torment that stood out there. He opened up to the flash of bright light from the sun, it's glare reflecting off the snow. He turned about the camp, looking for any tell tale signs of the mages that seem to haunt him like a ghost.

"Looking for someone?" The ring of the Orlesian Spymaster rang in Cullen's ears. He could feel his back become rigid, somehow expecting a knife right after her words. Leliana moved her way around the Commander, standing in his way, "A little bird told me you had a meeting with the Herald, _Alone._" Curses, Cullen thought to himself, curse her and her little 'birds' he had to think his way fast out of this one.

" Lady Anara needed my expertise on Ferelden." He tried to come off sincere, and annoyed by her prodding. Something he hoped came through as thus.

"Of course, expertise, alone, in the war room." Leliana seemed to make jest of him just a little, " I figured you for the type to take a vow of celibacy when you became a Templar." She cocked an eyebrow at the Commander, her questions becoming too personal.

" I'll have you know it was strictly professional. She wanted to know about Redcliffe, and the area around there. You should know Nightingale, I was stationed in Kinloch hold when you and the Hero of Ferelden stormed in and recovered the tower."

Leliana nodded, looking at Cullen, her previous jesting tone becoming serious, " I remember those days Commander, as I believe you do too." She began to sound concerned, " Have the nightmares stopped yet?"

Cullen's head sunk as he shook his head, "No, It's been months, perhaps it will haunt me forever." The personal attitude of the question pushing away his dreams filled with soft lips and teasing touches that only left him aching for the real thing.

Leliana looked at Cullen, " Remember Commander, you aren't the only one with scars here. But it is those scars that brings us closer to the men under our command, and those above us." Cullen was trying to decipher her hint to him. Perhaps talking about Anara and her experience in the Circle, with other Templar's.

"Speaking of which, where is Lady Cassandra and Anara?" Cullen carefully put Cassandras name first, to avoid any suspicion.

" They left for the Hinterlands this morning. Cassandra, Solas and Varric in tow. They should be back in the following week,or so."

Cullen grumbled to himself internally. Thank the maker, a week at most to get things done, to push these memories and thoughts from his mind. To come back anew, prepared and ready for the two mages and their, tactics.

Finally, some peace and quiet again.

The Hinterlands seemed to be a natural wonder to her eyes. Different from the lands of the Free Marches, different from Ostwick. She rarely ever traveled outside the city when she was a child, and stayed locked inside of it as she grew. She remembers the ocean and the smell of the salt in the air as the waves crashed against the rocks. But here, there was no sea, no dark rocks littering the land like spires from the earth. There were hills and mountains, grass and trees, the rush of water as it cascaded from the mountains, crashing against the rocks below.

Ferelden had fascinated her beyond belief, with little doubt in her mind why the Hinterlands was so sought after by Orlais.

She had met the scout named Harding, and lead herself through the battlefield between Mages and Templar's that spilled out over the land. She had built towers, stopped the Templar's from expanding, and as she stood over the bodies of the rebel mages apart of herself sink at that moment.

If she had stayed on her path against the Templar's in the circle. If she had killed the Knight-Captain instead, she would be here. She would've rebelled, she would've fought and she would've died. Instead as she grew she came to her senses, the broken horse that remained silent and obedient instead became revered. She had grown to become an enchanter in the circle of Ostwick, perhaps her name finally securing her a position somewhere. Trevelyan, Enchanter to the Ostwick Circle, and opinionated member of the Aequitarians.

But that time felt like a whole lifetime ago, that ages and eons had passed between who she was then, and who she became now. Her trip through the fade, the mark on her being and body had changed her from who she was before. When she had learned of the mark and how it was consuming her, she was filled with fear. Death was the only thing that she feared in her life, far more than abandonment or silence. She had changed mentally, reveling in what life she had, and trying to enjoy all the pleasure that life can provide. No matter how simple, or how complicated it became, she had changed. Whether for better or for worse, she didn't know, only time will tell.

Night had fallen again as she looked over the camp they had established. Mother Giselle suggested they travel to Val Royeaux to talk to the Chantry there, but she did not want to leave.

She sat atop the hill, her camp within a stones throw as she heard Varric and Cassandra hash out their differences again. Her feet rested in the waters that flowed from the mountains, the cold on her toes felt good after a long march.

Her eyes closed as she listened to the sounds of the water, remembering the sounds of the waves from home. How she spent hours sitting in the windows overlooking the ocean, watching ships leave the bay, some for Kirkwall or Highever. She'd watch the seasons change, from those windows, the snow caps on the Vimmark Mountains. The ships leaving Brandels Reach, and on the clearest days in the winter, she could swear she could see Amaranthine in the distance.

But those days were gone again, brought back to the reality of the world around her, she had yearned for freedom all those years ago. To see the lands outside of her city and outside of her window, but she never expected it.

Here she was, her feet in the waters of Ferelden, from Lake Calenhad or from the Frostback Mountains, she couldn't tell. She had seen Haven for all it's worth and felt no more at ease then here. Her noble blood may say she belonged in Val Royeaux playing the game with other nobles vying for position. But who she was after so many years of solitude and quiet wanted nothing more than to stay in the wilds. Leaving the affairs of the world to others around her, wishing to shed her responsibility like a second skin.

She felt a warm blanket envelope her, a body nestling behind keeping her close and warm from the cold waters.

"You'll catch a cold Vhenan. Who else will save the world?" She felt his arms wrap around her, the blanket covering her body except for her legs.

She sighed, "Cassandra perhaps. She is a Pentaghast." She heard a chuckle come from his lips as he rested his chin on her shoulder.

" I doubt she can pull her attention from Varric long enough to save the world Vhenan. Best she stay where she's needed." she could feel his lips press against her shoulder, sending a chill through her body.

Solas noticed her silence and her sudden need for privacy away from the group, "Is there something the matter?" She could feel his affection in how he nuzzled her ear, or how he held her close despite the situation.

"I was thinking of all the things I never go to see." She tilted her head back, resting on his shoulder as he held her. " I always wanted to See Ostagar, or Denerim, or..or Highever, but I never expected to leave Ostwick, ever." She turned, just a little; enough to look Solas in the eyes, "Have you seen those places?"

Solas looked out onto the water, the lake reflecting the thousands of stars like a mirror into another world. His mind deep in thought to what she said, " Yes Vhenan, I have. Perhaps too we shall see it together." She felt Solas pull her closer, her feet retreating from the water curling up with the elf under the blanket. She could feel his lips press against her temple, his affections and love pouring out through him as his arms wrapped around hers.

She looked out onto the water, the ripples of fish echoing through the waters. She rested her head, staring out into the world around her and the freedom she yearned for. Finally in her grasp.

She sat there, in Solas's loving grasp as they looked onto the world from their perch. Solas regaled her with tales of the things he's seen in the fade, of distant memories and battles fought. He held her close, feeling her slowly drift into sleep within his waiting arms as silence overtook the land.


	12. Chapter 12

Days had passed, over a week by the time they reached Haven. Anara felt even more out of place among the people of Haven once they reached the small town. Her time separated from her advisers and in the solitude of the Hinterlands made her adjustment much more difficult than she predicted.

She didn't want to go to Val Royeaux, despite what Giselle and Cassandra said, she didn't want to turn to the Templar's and she didn't want to turn to the Chantry for aid and support. Why should she? They were doing just fine earlier without either of them.

She had closed rifts, and established camps. She had stopped the rebel mages in the Hinterlands, and the Templar's that squatted there. They have done these things without the help of the Chantry or Templar support. So then why did she have to go and seek either now?

Since her arrival back she had become sullen, wanting little to do with the decisions of the inquisition. Everyone began to notice this, Cassandra stood at the war table, looking over the map.

" Where is the Herald?" She looked across the map at Leliana and Josephine, both huddled over her paperwork.

"It seems the Herald is, trying to adjust." Josephine spoke, writing on her paper with Leliana next to her.

"She has been seen leaving Haven more and more, where she goes and what she does, we do not know. All we know is, she respects her privacy." Leliana threw in, knowing full well that Cassandra wouldn't approve of the Spymasters words.

" Are you telling me that she _LEAVES_ Haven, and neither of you know where she goes?"

Josephine shrugged to Cassandra, Leliana spoke, "She has...a tendency to fade step whenever she try to find her. She's becoming rather elusive to our attempts."

Cassandra didn't take the news well, holding them all accountable, " It would be better to have her back in Haven, where she can be observed."

Leliana looked back at her, pulling her attention away from Josephine's papers, " What exactly has she done Cassandra to warrant this reaction? What happened out there?" Cassandra huffed, not wanting to further explain herself. Again with the questions and the reasoning as to why she wanted what she wanted. She didn't have to explain herself, she was a Seeker, and an adviser to the Inquisition, why did she _now_ and again have to explain her reasoning.

She pushed her way from the Chantry, the doors swinging open to the world outside, she turned her attention instead to a figure that she knew wouldn't question her motives.

"Commander" She came across Cullen who was training recruits on proper blocking.

" Yes Lady Cassandra?" He straightened as he looked at the warrior. Her face grimaced as she left the Chantry, walking towards him.

"I need you to do something for me." Cullen listened patiently to the woman as she made her case, "The Herald….Anara...Has been leaving Haven and no one knows where she goes."

Cullen looked at her, his eyebrows furrowing, " What exactly are you suggesting?"

" I am suggesting _Commander_ that you follow her, ensure that she doesn't try anything suspicious."

Cullen felt himself tense up at the thought of it, he hated the idea of following her, herald or not. People deserved privacy, and that was a lesson he learned awhile ago.

" Why can't you trust this task to Solas? Or to a recruit?" Cullen interjected, suddenly wishing that this situation fell upon someone else.

"Because Solas could be aiding her, and a recruit cannot stop a mage, not one of her knowledge." Cassandra seemed so sure of his abilities, even though Cullen wasn't sure of his. She'd sense him from a mile away, just like she did all those times before. He wasn't a rogue, he wasn't sneaky, and he wasn't a spy of any kind. He was only a Templar, and only a man after all.

He nodded, to Cassandra understanding what she expected of him. She left him to his thoughts as he tried to figure out if this was another trap set up by the mages. it made him tense thinking about this situation, wanting nothing more than the truth in regards to this situation. He briskly walked to Adan's hut, looking at Solas standing there alone, staring off into the breach. Cullen made his way over to the elf, whose mind was elsewhere.

" Do not tell me that this is another one of your little tricks." Cullen looked at Solas, who pulled his stare from the breach.

" Whatever do you mean Commander?" Solas looked at him confused.

" Anara, wandering off into the woods at all manners of the day and night. I know it's a trick between you two to drag me out there. To scheme your little plots, you won't get me like last time." Cullen pointed his finger at the elf, almost threatening.

" You have it wrong Commander, Anara has been...Different since the Hinterlands." Solas stepped back from the Commanders pointed finger. " I honestly don't know how to make her feel better. I figured I should give her space, but when it comes to your peoples emotions it's...Harder to make sense of. "

Cullen was confused on Solas's observations of humanity, " You let yourselves stew and drown in your emotions. Something that I admire wholeheartedly. We elves live in our past, the Dalish live forever within it, searching for meaning among old ruins. City elves live in the past of slavery, forever defined by what society has for them. But you humans..."

He looked at Cullen, " You are unattainable in how you feel. You live in the past, the present and the future. You are not defined by society, but you instead break free from it. Nobles or peasants can be in the circle, or in the Chantry. You define your lives by your actions, not by your past." Solas turned his attention back to the fade, " I fear though, that she is too far gone in her past right now for me to be able to bring her back."

Cullen could feel his chest tighten at the words presented to him, "So this...Isn't a trap?"

Solas chuckled, " No Commander, it is not. If it was, it'd be a little more elaborate than this."

Cullen felt a wave of relief wash over him, hearing the reassurance from Solas. Finding it easier mentally to have to confront her at some point. He nodded in silence looking at Solas who seemed lost in his own mind again.

Cullen turned from the elf, taking back his suspicion of him. Deciding past his biased feelings, trying to think at this point, what was best for the Inquisition.

" Commander." He heard Solas speak behind him, " I understand your suspicion of us, as I understand your feelings for her. I would move the earth for her Commander, but don't think for a moment what I wouldn't do for her all over again if it meant bringing her back."

Cullen nodded, knowing well what Solas was placing upon him. The elf trusted him, if only a little bit. " Do you know where she is?" Cullen asked, his back still to Solas.

" She has been camping outside the town, across the lake. If she's still there, bring Ma Vhenan back."

Cullen moved, gripping the hilt of his sword as he walked past his men at the training grounds. Oh he hated the attention he seemed to be garnering from this excursion. Everyone seemed to have their own rumor mill to the whole situation, whispers among the commoners that wandered through the streets.

He was trying to leave as quickly as possible, trying to stop the escalation of the rumors that began to spread through the town like a plague. Some feared she had become possessed by a demon, some thought she went mad with blood magic, and others felt she was channeling Andraste herself. Whatever speculation that these people had, Cullen would have to get to the bottom of it without listening to the rumors.

He had made his way towards the gate, shouting his way through until he heard the voice of Varric, "Going somewhere Curly?"

Cullen obviously didn't have time for this, " Seeker Pentaghast sent me on an important missive, I am to retrieve the Herald for the Inquisition."

"So you're the errand boy then? I'd suggest to The Seeker not to rough up your prize winning pony, but then I think she'd just beat me." Varric slapped Cullen on the arm, "But I get it Curly, The Seekers an attractive lady, once you get past all that grimacing and frowning. But I have to say this, regardless of what the Seeker says, you should leave Anara alone. She's been through enough."

Cullen turned towards the dwarf, master of storytelling and a rogue, he should know more about the situation than anyone else in their group. "Tell me what you know Varric. What do you mean she's been through enough?"

Varric held up his hands almost defensively, " Whoa Curly don't jump to conclusions, all I know is what I heard Mother Giselle told her, remember I'm an occasional rogue. I heard the Chantry tried to garner peace between the sides with aides and lets just say, they were never seen again."

Cullen looked at Varric, confusion slipping into his face, why on earth would the Chantry upset her? She hated the Chantry from all that he gathered in his knowledge of her. She regularly spoke out against Chantry aid and Templar aid as well. He had guessed this was one of the things that he had to figure out as he looked for her. He sighed to himself as he looked over the dwarf, " Of course, thank you Varric for the enlightenment."

Cullen pushed towards the gate, seeing himself outside, he heard Varric shout back at him, " Of course Curly, anytime." He thought to himself how that was a lie. Varric didn't usually give away information for free, unless it was one of his tales. Cullen figured that Varric was internalizing a story in his mind about these events. Turning it into either a romance or an awful tragedy, which he didn't know.

Cullen walked outside the gates, the cold winter of Ferelden still ominous as grey clouds swirled in the distance. He had made his way across the small plain of snow, heading towards the

frozen lake that sat outside of Haven. Like a frozen Goliath reaching for the mountain, Cullen walked around the shore, his feet kicking at the frozen ice that fringed the edge of the water. What exactly was he expected to do? Wander about until he 'accidentally' ran into her? Make it known why he's there? Or just, stand there harsh and silent? No, he wasn't exactly that, he laughed to himself, knowing full well how ridiculous he sounded in his mind.

He shook his head, thinking of anything else then what he was to encounter at some point. Haven had been quiet since the group had left and even quieter when they got back. This was a predicament that he had to figure out, silence was never a good sign.

His feet stepped forward, one at a time closing distance to some unknown force until the ice around the lake gritted. He looked down to see piles of stones gathered about the edge, until he heard a loud smack ring through the air. He turned to see Anara standing nearby, throwing stones across a frozen lake.

He gathered his furs up closer to his face as he felt a small rush of wind. He approached the mage with caution, not knowing what her mood was exactly.

" Hello, Herald." Cullen spoke, trying his best to be nonchalant.

" Hello Knight-Captain." Cullen looked at her, her eyes staring off into the distance as she watched the rocks skid across the frozen wastes.

" I'm not that person anymore Herald, you know that."

" And I am not The Herald." She bit back, her words sticking like daggers.

A wave of silence overtook them as Cullen stood there, watching as she threw another rock across the ice. The sound rumbling through the air around them.

" Did you used to throw rocks?" Cullen was trying to grasp at a conversation topic to make this less awkward. He could sense her annoyance, the fuse to her temper had become short lately.

"Why…" She sighed, as she held a rock in her fingers. Looking at the smooth surface, "My brother and I used to when we were little, before I was sent to The Circle. " She smiled to herself as she launched the rock across the frozen lake, another ring in the air. " He always said I was cheating because I could skip them farther than him. He was right."

She looked at the ground with sad eyes, " I suppose you're here for a reason outside of my fondness for rock skipping Commander?"

Cullen looked at her, "Everyone is, worried you came back from the Hinterlands different."

"And I suppose you're here to determine if I'm a Maleficarum or possessed?" Cullen had no words for her, his mouth closing back to his silence.

She nodded to herself, looking forward, "Of course.."

She turned her eyes to the Commander, " Did they tell you what happened? What I did?"

Cullen shook his head, knowing full well that no one wanted to be a bearer of bad news.

She nodded, looking back across the lake, her mind wandering back to the Hinterlands.

They had cleared out a group of rebel mages within the Witchwood. Cassandra had their leader brought before her as the remaining mages fled, " Herald, what should we do with him?" Cassandra looked to her for a decision as the man in front of them laughed.

His voice was deep and bitter, his Freemarcher accent thick, as he spoke, "Herald Ey Sera?" He chuckled to himself, " Well, well Trevelyan; the horse that rides high." She felt her skin shiver as she heard her family's name, this was no mere coincidence anymore.

"She is the Herald, and you will address her as such." Cassandra held her blade to the mage, her powers suppressing his own as he laughed again,

" Trevelyan, modest in temper, bold in deed." He chuckled, Varric standing there with Bianca out,

"Why don't we just kill him? He's obviously the leader of the Witchwood. Stop him and we stop the mages."

" It's not that simple." Anara spoke, pushing Cassandras blade aside as she grabbed the leader by the cloak, " What do you know of me?" She spoke through gritted teeth, feeling Cassandras suppression inch back her magic.

The man smiled, a wicked and evil sneer as he thought to himself, " Who doesn't know about the Trevelyans? Chantry dogs the lot of you. No better than Starkhaven." He spat out, laughing to himself, "But where's the Chantry now? To save you Trevelyan's from the fires that burn. Where is your maker that gifted us as such." His words echoing through her, mocking her as she remembered Mother Giselle.

" _A few of the Templar's remained loyal to the Chantry. Regardless of the accord, one of them named Tobias went missing weeks ago." _She felt her pace quicken as the man laughed to himself as it increased in strength.

She could feel the itch of her magic moving, the feel of it as it fought with Cassandras abilities. "What was their names….oh their names…" He muttered to himself, his head lolling back and forth as he searched through the trees for their names.

" Thom...Thoma...Thomas? no, no..To..To..bias..Tobias…" She could feel her chest tighten as she heard the words leave his lips. _Tobias_

"You're lying." She gritted through her teeth as her grip tightened on the mages cloak. She heard him chuckle against her words.

"He came here thinking you had joined us. Do you know what he did in his last moments as we bled him dry?"

"No…" She huffed under her breath, her anger welling up inside of her as her magic threatened against Cassandras powers.

Cassandra could feel the sudden shift in magic as she tried to get a hold of Anara, "He's lying, don't listen to him."

He laughed, his voice serious and deep, " He cried to the Maker for help, begging for him to intervene as we bled him dry, anchoring him to a demon."

" You LIE!" She shoved the man onto the ground as his back hit the dirt she was on top of him. One arm grasping him by the collar the other clenched.

" He cried for his sister to save him. We wept, like a babe until all the life fled from him." Cassandra was losing control of the situation, her powers no longer strong enough for Anara's emotions.

Varric and Solas could feel it in the air like static that surrounded them. Solas ran to her, "Vhenan, it isn't worth it. It won't bring him back."

Her teeth clenched again, almost threatening to break as her emotions began to overflow her again. Pain met with anger me with shame that mingled to create something she had never felt before. She felt him laugh against her, his head tilting back as he shouted to the sky, " Modest in temper, BOLD IN DEED!"

She screamed loudly as her fist came across his face, knocking him into the ground, Cassandra rushed.

" Anara what are you doing? Stop this!" She tried to grab onto Anara but the flow of her magic almost burned her.

Anara pulled him back up from the ground, blood dripping from his mouth as he laughed, Her fist came up again, preparing for another strike as Solas shouted, " Ma Vhenan, Suledin!" She bared her teeth as it came down for another strike. His head flailing back into the ground.

_He killed him, used blood magic, chained his blood to a demon. He did this, he killed him, Tobias; the Maker had no power, he couldn't save you, I couldn't save you._

Anara looked into the eyes of the mage, blood flowing freely from his broken nose. Still a chuckle coming from his lips as he looked at her, " Bold in deed.." He whispered one last time, a crooked smile coming to his face.

Her anger spilled out into the world as everything felt like it was crashing around her. Remembering her words last time she saw Tobias, "_The Maker has no power here…"_

She screamed, a mournful and pained scream that echoed through the area. Chilling them all to the bone as her body burned and lightning grew in her hand. Her fist made contact as she pulled him up. Cassandra had lost her power against the mage, her emotions too strong and powerful against her Seeker abilities.

Anara had lost herself in the feeling, in the emotions that she felt. She could feel the life leave him as he gave into his fate, but it wasn't enough. Her fist went raw and numb by the time she had stopped, tears streaming down her face, mixing with blood.

She had dropped his body on the ground, as she slumped her pain coming out for all to see. She wept for her loss as everyone stood there, silence rushing over them.

Varric was at a loss for words for once. Looking at the mage lose herself in the death of a loved one. What she had done was awful, but Varric could understand what she felt and why she did it. But it didn't alleviate the sickness in his stomach.

Cassandra stood there, a hand held up to her mouth at the sight before her. The man was a bloody mess, hardly recognizable anymore, his flesh was scorched from the magic in her body. Cassandra knew why mages were to be feared in this circumstance, and she briefly feared the Herald. Her magic overpowered her, and shut her down from suppressing her. Her magic flowed outward and over them as she lost herself in it. Here she feared what would become of the inquisition and in time the Herald.

But Solas. He stood there, with his hand on her shoulder, fearing her, but still loving her in her loss. "Vhenan. You will endure.." He could feel her body sway as she tried to push her magic back down, trying to recover from her violent outburst. Solas only feared for her safety now, hoping that Cassandra wouldn't cut her down on the spot. But he looked at Anara, her body slumped as she became silent.

"You should go...All of you.." She could feel her magic begin to well back up as she twitched, trying to still come to terms with the situation.

"We won't just leave.." Cassandra spoke, now becoming deathly serious to the situation at hand.

" I said, leave." She turned towards Cassandra, her eyes dead, free from emotion and cold as she looked over the group. Her legs moved as she stood up, turning towards the group.

She was covered in blood, her hair matted and disheveled as sweat gathered on her brow. The tears on her face leaving clean streaks down her face as she looked over them.

"Leave. Now." Her face remained neutral and passive. Her eyes looking over everyone with nothing behind them anymore.

Varric didn't overstay his welcome as he turned his back, " Don't kill yourself out here kid. It's not worth it." He turned from the mage, putting distance between them, not wanting to go against her wishes.

Cassandra was still unmoving, a shield wall to the world, " Promise you will make it back." She looked at Anara with fierce determination, pushing past all her prejudices. Anara nodded slowly, her eyes still seeing through them. Cassandra hesitated, pausing as she looked back at the elf who stood there.

Solas was the last to leave, his hands on her shoulder, his magic helping cool hers. " Anara, Ma'arlath Ma Vhenan." His fingers brushed against her cheek, wiping some of the blood away. " You will endure my love, Do not forget that."

Her eyes came across his, filled with grief and pain, hearing her sniffle as she tried to regain herself. His hand slipped from her cheek, feeling her magic come back fierce and burning. He walked away as Anara stood there, her body aching from what had happened. Her mind still foggy as she reconciled her feelings.

Solas had headed with the other two as they made their way back to camp, feeling the heat against his back of her magic as they all heard one more mournful cry split into the air, the sound reminding him of her harrowing.

She could feel her magic flow from her in a cloak of veilfire as it consumed everything around her. Burning the body to ashes, as she screamed one last time. All of her pain and regret welled up inside of her, unleashing like a demon released from the fade. It had consumed her and all that around her, a vortex of flame that burst forth from her body. She knew she couldn't be around her companions now, their fear of her would overtake them, just as her emotions took her over.

Her legs staggered as she walked forward, moving slowly, deeper into the Witchwood. The echoing roar that scorched the earth and ashes that blew in the wind were all that remained of the mage who spoke her name.

Varric sat next to the fire, looking over at Solas, "What does that mean, Vhenan?"

Solas looked at the ground trying to think of a concealable lie, "It's a word used for those of power."

Varric scoffed, "Then why don't you use it for The Seeker?"

"Because The Seeker is of her own power. She is a warrior, not a mage."

"So the words exclusive to mages only?" Varric seemed intrigued suddenly, Solas hoping he wasn't writing this for a book.

It had been two days since Anara had disappeared, Scout Harding had tried to look for her, but failed attempt after attempt. Solas knew in his heart that she would come back, But to Varric or Cassandra she might as well have abandoned them.

Cassandra sat there, sharpening her blade as they heard the sounds of the birds flee. Their cawing gaining the groups attention as they turned around, expecting an ambush from the Mages or Templar's that remained. The moments were tense as they waited, hearing the rustling of leaves and branches, Varric was about to shoot blindly into the woods until Solas held out his arm, sensing the magic that became all too familiar with his.

From the brush she stumbled through, her staff dropped to the ground as she made her way across the camp. Solas rose from his seat, "Vhenan?" He spoke, the woman that was with them a few days ago seemed long gone, some feral ghost remaining. She turned slowly towards Solas, her face was pale and streaked with dirt and blood. Her eyes were no longer filled with the grief that it once held, but instead with a rage that burned like flames.

Cassandra had stood up, her blade in her hands as she looked upon Anara. " Herald, where have you been?" she looked at the woman whose body was tired and shattered. Her knees gave way as he hit the ground, looking up at the sky.

"I had, to find him..the demon, anchored to his blood." Her head fell back as she breathed in the air around her, "And I killed them…" She looked across the camp, the dried blood on her face causing whispers among the soldiers. Her hair was wild in it's brown curls, her brown eyes grown dark from the emotions she felt, her knuckles were raw, her arms bruised, and cut.

" I killed them all…" She pulled her hand close to her, Solas noticing something in her grasp.

"Vhenan?" he approached slowly, his arm reaching out, knowing well her emotions were still like an open wound. His fingers touched her shoulder, she jerked quickly. Uncertain of what to do when he touched her, she was lost in a sea of emotions sweeping her away. Solas sat down on his knees, holding her hand, "Vhenan, what is it?"

She sobbed as he opened her hand, staring at a few small bones and a tooth in her palm. "It was all that was left of him…" She cried, pulling her hand back to her, closing his only remains to herself as her hair fell into her face.

Her magic had stemmed, and finally stopped flowing with her emotions as she cried freely. The open wound of her grief still visible for all to see. Solas pulled her close, as she wept, her tears staining Solas's clothes. But he stood strong for her, letting her lose herself completely to all that she had done, and all that had happened. Softly in her ear, he sang the same melody to her when she was asleep after the Breach.

Cullen stood there, looking at Anara who had told him the tale of what happened in the Hinterlands. Watching as tears came streaming down her cheeks, threatening to chill in the cold. " You killed all of those mages?" He didn't know what to say to her about all of this, but he had understood Cassandras need for him to watch her. She had feared her own Seeker abilities weren't strong enough to stop her. But she somehow felt his was.

" They bound his blood to a demon. They resorted to blood magic, and they dealt with demons. I had no pity for them, and I saved them no mercy."

He looked down at her hands, One still clenched tightly to the rock in her hand, "is that why you don't want to go to Val Royeaux?"

She turned, looking Cullen in the eyes, " I will not face a Chantry that lead my brother to his death. I will not support the Chantry, nor the Templar's, nor the Mages. "

Cullen closed in, his hand grabbing hers that clenched so tightly to the rock, "Your brother chose to fight for you...Do not waste his sacrifice."

Her body eased on it's tension as her head fell forward, her voice cracking as she spoke, " The last thing I told him was that the Maker wasn't real, that he had no power. I cannot face the Chantry like this. I couldn't find him." Tears began to flow freely as she tried to hide her face from Cullen.

" His remains weren't burned. He will never find his way to the Maker, to Andraste or to peace."

Cullen felt his stomach knot to her grief as he pulled her close, hiding her sobbing face into his shoulder. He felt her body quake as her cries were muffled by his shoulder. " The Maker will know of his sacrifice Anara, he lead himself to protect you. he was a Templar, the Maker will accept him regardless and he will know peace."

Cullen held her close as she cried, he could feel her magic within decline as he suppressed her power with his. In this moment Cullen could understand why everyone expected him to do this. He was an Ex-Templar, and if things got out of had he could suppress her magic long enough to bring her back. She sobbed against him, her body still weak and trembling, as her hands still clenched in anger to her emotions. Cullen reassured her, his hand stroking her hair as the other hugged her close, pushing back the feelings that he had for her, trying not to take advantage of her pain.

What felt like an eternity passed until Cullen felt her hands on his back, his touch finally bringing some comfort to her. Her hands twisted in the fur upon his shoulders as her sobs finally stopped, her hands slipping from the fur as she tried to step back.

Cullen grumbled internally as she moved, never wanting to let go of the mage. He looked her over, her eyes were red from crying as her nose desperately tried to breath in the mountain air. She wiped furiously at her eyes, trying to wish away her tears, trying to mask her pain from him.

" Hey...Don't.." His hands came up and grabbed hers as she tried to hide, "Don't hide."

She turned her head, her eyes looking confusingly at Cullen, "What?"

His hand stretched out, wiping the tears from her cheeks, " Don't hide, wear those tears with pride. You're the Herald of Andraste.."

She gave him the saddest, most heartbreaking smile he had ever seen across lips. His fingers moving the hair from her eyes, as he smiled back, " The dawn will come Herald…" His hands gathered up hers as he held them up to his lips, kissing her hands, " I promise you Anara, you _will_ get through this. "

His lips left her hands and he couldn't tell if the red across her cheeks was a blush or from her crying. He couldn't tell, but he had enjoyed the reaction nonetheless.

His hands left hers slip from his grasp as she fumbled about with her words, not able to come up with anything. "Anara.." He spoke, looking at her as his hands cupped her face looking into her eyes,

" You have bewitched me.."

He slowly leaned in, his eyes closing as he inched closer, his body and heart willing to give her anything for her to be his. For her to smile again.


	13. Chapter 13

The wedding venue is booked and now I have….8 months to put a wedding together. It's apparently full swing time for wedding stuff. OH GOD WEDDING STUFF!

If my updates are few and far between it may mean that I've finally lost my mind and succumbed to wedding madness. If I do, I want you all to tell Cullen that I loved him the most.

He pressed his lips against hers a gentle kiss against her lips, Cullen had finally lost himself in the moment. He remembered what she had told him that while ago, that he was only a man, that a man had needs. In this moment he could feel his need set aflame by the gentleness of his kiss. It had felt so long since he's been this close. Duty always coming first before personal needs, such was the duty of any Templar.

But she was an enigma to him, always shutting herself off from him or tempting him like some desire demon. He had no idea which was the real her, the strong leader that lead the missions? The wanton temptress that tried to lead him astray? Or the reclusive violent woman that hid beneath those mage robes? He didn't know how many sides she had, or what it was that he wanted to see. But her body remained rigid and surprised by his actions. Her lips unresponsive and her hands frozen from shock.

Cullens hands moved into her hair, feeling the brown tresses between his fingers. How they curled in his touch, he was enthralled by her hair, how she kept it swept to one side, leaving her neck exposed to both the elements and his gaze.

Cullen felt himself pour everything that he felt pent up into his kiss, trying to remain gentle. She felt like the clawing of lyrium in the back of his mind. How her magic could feel against someones soul, only igniting their ache and need. How he needed her, like he needed lyrium, fearful that he would drown in that need. But not willing to stop himself from succumbing to it.

Cullen could feel himself lose faith, and began to become self conscious, fearing that he had stepped over a line. His hands wished to grasp more, to pull her close and never let her go. But he could feel her body remain frozen like a statue. He knew that he had done something that perhaps he shouldn't have done.

He pulled away slowly, breathing out in the awkward silence that fell between them, " I'm...I'm sorry I…" He couldn't think of anything to say anymore, his words failed him miserably as he tried to grasp for something.

He shook his head, finding the ground suddenly interesting, " I'm sorry…" Was all that he could mutter from his lips as he wished to flee and hide in a hole somewhere. Maker he took advantage of this situation, oh he felt like an idiot.

" Don't Commander." He looked up at the woman in front of him, her fingers touching her lips. " Don't feel sorry. I know...I know you feel guilty. But you did what you thought was right." She turned away, her feet kicking at the snow bank, " I understand that you were trying to help…" Her voice seemed to trail off as she began to mutter to herself, snow flying in all directions.

" Anara?" He didn't know what she was thinking anymore, the idea of it worried him. Perhaps she was trying to think things out in her mind, maybe she had just wandered out somewhere. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder, " Are you alright?"

She turned around, nodding as she looked at him, "Yes, yes..I..Commander" She sighed, her hands going down to her sides as she looked at him, " I must commend you Commander, you are a man of…" Her mind struggled with the words as she tried to pull something from her noble roots. " Ideals? " She looked at him, a look of confusion in her choice of words. "Yes….Ideals.." It had seemed she was not as well versed as she originally thought.

" You have, stayed true to yourself Commander, regardless of what I do. But do not feel that you have taken advantage of my grief. I promise that you have not." She sighed again, resigning herself to her decisions. "I will go to Val Royeaux. Please tell Cassandra that I do not need to be watched now. I am not possessed, I'm not channeling Andraste and I'm not a Maleficarum. " She tried to shrug off his kiss, and move past it onto other things, trying to help him push it from his mind. Cullen became confused by her temperament, needlessly chalking it up to her grief. He nodded simply, wishing to retreat and hide from the world in case a little bird heard or saw something.

He had turned his back, feeling some heat come across his cheeks as he remembered how he made an ass of himself. "Commander.." He heard her speak, he debated in his mind if he should turn or stop. He decided to avoid letting her see him embarrassed as he stood still, " I am no Herald.." Cullen turned his head, looking back at Anara as she stood there, her eyes looking up at the Breach.

" It is not what you want, or what you think Anara, it is what _they_ need and they need you. _We_ need you."

With that he left her to dwell upon those words of wisdom as he walked away, leaving back for Haven and hopefully to nothing new in his life of surprise.

Cassandra met him at the gate as soon as he stepped through, " Where is the herald?" her voice more demanding than usual, " We NEED to go to Val Royeaux. We must meet with the Chantry."

Cullen stopped her from continuing, " I know, as does she. She will go to Val Royeaux, lady Cassandra but it will be in her time. "

Cassandra clenched her jaw, the grimace coming back to her face as she heard the Commander, "In her time!? Each day she stays out there sequestered is another day that the Mages and Templar's fight!"

He held up his hands in defense against her, "She will go Cassandra, certainly you can understand her grief."

Her face flushed pale at his words, her grimace turning to surprise and then back to anger. Cassandra had nothing more to say to Cullen as she turned her back, leaving him to his words.

"Well, that was a surprise. You spoke the truth to her Curly, and it seems she wasn't expecting that." Varric stood there, his back braced against the wall with his arms crossed. " It seems like you're not completely without a spine." Varric chuckled hitting the Commander on the arm, " Come on, you deserve a drink!"

Cullen shook his head respectfully, " Sorry Varric, I don't have the time right now. There are preparations."

Varric scoffed, "Curly, do you ever stop working?" The dwarf walked away, shaking his head to the Commander as he waved back at Cullen, not bothering to look behind him.

Cullen thought to himself that this was perhaps how Varric lived his life. Waving back on the distant past without bothering to look back on it. Cullen could see that there was a simplicity about it, and perhaps a sense of loneliness as well. Cullen didn't envy that in Varric's life, for there were certain things to remind us where we came from, and what we've learned.

He made his way through the town, stopping to ensure that his men had followed procedures since he left. Their swings were stronger, but their aim was off still and their blocks were just awful. He groaned as a soldier hit the metal links of another's chain mail, it seemed no one learned how to dodge since he left.

He saw Solas out the corner of his eye, pacing uncontrollably around Adans. He wondered what was making the elf nervous, could he sense her grief? Her shock and disbelief? Did he know what he did? Could he sense _that_?

He could feel his chest tighten as he remembered the embarrassment that he felt after his awkward and stumbling kiss. He felt the cool leather of his gloves pressed against his face as he tried to suppress his agitation. Thinking about it wasn't helping, but he knew standing here would do no good for either him or for Solas in the distance.

Cullen sighed heavily as his shoulders sank. He couldn't stand the sight of the elf pacing about like a caged animal. His feet headed towards the elf, standing in the distance. He assured himself that this had nothing to do with him, that Solas couldn't know that much.

He didn't have to say anything but was met instead with Solas's panicked words, "Commander, do you have news? I could feel that Anara was distressed, but I can't bring myself to go to her." Solas looked down at the ground, his eyes sensing

Cullen nodded understanding his predicament, " She is better Solas, I promise." He could sense the elf settle down as his body relaxed back to his normal self. Solas was connected to her beyond a reason of doubt. Something that he figured that only a mage could connect with another mage. But it was a connection that he felt jealous of and wished for himself.

He could connect with Cassandra, but only through a sense of duty. Leliana he knew from the blight, but had no connection with her outside of acquaintances. Josephine was too wrapped up in her politics to be seen as any interest to Cullens fight first then ask questions approach. He felt himself lost in a sea of people, and the only ones that could see him were already tauntingly together.

He looked over Solas, trying to understand why she prefered him. They were both mages, but their personalities so different. She was heated with her words and opinions, obvious in her intentions and sometimes her thoughts. She was like the sun in the sky, giving warmth and projecting onto all those around her. But if her emotions got out of hand she could burn them all alive. That was something that Cullen knew Cassandra feared with the mage. She was confined in her beginnings, meek and noble. She wore her pride like an armor impenetrable to those around her.

Solas was cold and calculated, imposing knowledge upon all those that would listen. He spoke of spirits and of the fade, rarely showing his true colors expect in private. Anara seemed to be the catalyst in his feelings, and his true expression. But he was different than her, only rivaling with her in passion and need. But he knew what people would always say, opposites attract.

Cullen looked to the elf, who was smiling to himself. " Thank you Commander." He said as he looked up from the ground, " Thank you for bringing Ma Vhenan back."

He looked confused at Solas, his words foreign to him, he didn't understand elvish, but he felt the words were sentimental. He had wondered what it was that Solas knew that he didn't. But whatever he felt and he knew, Cullen knew it was between Anara and Solas only.

He gave a nod, accepting Solas's words as he turned back, wanting to return to his preparations. Val Royeaux wasn't going to just _be_ there, and the herald wouldn't want to go without back up. He had to train the troops, and they had to learn at some point how to dodge.

The sun had set and the night began to quicken. It's darkness reaching across the sky like morbid tendrils. The night was colder than normal, the air threatening snow as the clouds filled the air. Cullen stood there in front of the fire, watching as his men gathered for warmth. This kind of darkness was never a good omen in Cullen's mind. But he had faith in The Maker, In Andraste and in The Herald. He knew she would show up, and he knew that she would heed his words.

The night stretched on as he heard song coming from the nearby tavern. The inquisition felt it best to liven the spirits of those around with drink and song. He felt he could understand suddenly, the bitter cold of the mountains were a reminder of life in Ferelden. Warmth and joy were few and far between in the harsh land, but when it was found it felt like there was no end.

Cullen stood over his small encampment watching as his men retired to their rooms and cots. Calling in for the long night of winter, his arms braced him as he huddled for warmth with the fire. His arms crossed as he tried to pull his fur lined collar higher, trying to block the cold.

He had heard the gate open, as an echo came through the town, "The Herald." He had heard, "The Herald returns!"

He heard the voices usher as bodies began to stir from their slumber. Cassandra walked from her tent, looking around, "Is she back?" She turned her attention to Cullen who could only looking questionably at her.

Torches came to life, the fires licking the air as people began to gather. Hearing the words spread through the town, "The Herald is back." Cullen had heard as he moved slowly through the town. The people's once fear of the woman sated as she returned through the gates, bags in tow and staff in hand as she stood there among the people.

Cullen was glad that she had taken his advice, had thought on his words and made her decision to come back. Her absence was well noted, and had worried many in the town. But she had stood there, feeling the pat on the back from the blacksmith and smiling down at the dwarves snide comments. Perhaps now she had left her grief pass, if only for a moment. He watched as her eyes passed over the flocks of people shouting for the Herald of Andraste. Her eyes met with his for a moment as she lowered her eyes and gently nodded her head. Cullen was glad that she acknowledged what he had done. Even if the beginning was not the best start, he was glad something came from it after all.

Her eyes ran back over people as she looked at Solas, standing off in the distance, separating himself physically. She gave a weak smile, trying not to give her intentions and affections away to those around her.

She hid her affection for Solas, who in turn walked away from the group that welcomed the Herald back into the flock. He had seen her and knew she was in capable hands, and that was enough of her attention for now.

Anara turned her eyes away from the elf's back as he walked off. Her eyes now searching through the crowd, seeking out another. There she had found her, Cassandra standing over the group at the top of the crest that overlooked the gate. Her arms crossed over her chest as she looked over them. Trying to decide if she was disapproving or not, she knew now what Cullen had meant in his words and the wisdom behind it.

"Seeker!" She shouted over the crowd as the noise died down. Eyes turning to Cassandra in response to her words.

"Herald." She spoke back, her head nodding to her words.

" We ride for Val Royeaux!" Cassandra could feel the weight from her chest fall as she heard those words, her arms uncrossing as she nodded, gladly going with the Heralds decision.

"Finally.." She muttered under her breath, thanking the Maker that she had finally made her mind, and that her time had come to make it.

The night continued on as Cassandra turned from the people gathered, making her way to the war room with the advisers in tow. They had to be sure that this was the right step.

Val Royeaux, the heart of the Orlesian empire and perhaps the last place she wanted to be.

She stood there with her group to her back as she looked at the ornate walls, and gilded lions. She could feel a grimace pulling on her lips as she looked at what stood in front of her. "Olresian's…" She muttered to herself, remembering her home of Ostwick.

The Tevinter Imperium may have taken over parts of the Free Marches and left their….taste on architecture. But she never understood why everything had to be gold plated and marble it all felt to...Ornate, like it'd fall apart in the wind or melt like sugar cubes in the rain. Unknowingly she cocked an eyebrow at the place, trying to force her squeamishness down. She slowly looked over herself, looking down at the muddy and previously blood stained mage garb and coat. Josephine suggested she wear something more...Orlesian. But she wasn't trying to win over the nobles. Only the Chantry.

She turned back at the group, Varric only shrugged at her, understanding her trepidation. Solas looked just as uncomfortable, knowing how well the Orlesian's treated Elves. Even though Solas never considered himself a Dalish or a city elf, he knew they wouldn't see past his ears.

Cassandra just stood there, her head held high as she looked at the gates. It looked like she had been here before, she was the right hand of the divine after all...It'd make sense as to why she was guarded and prepared for the onslaught that The Chantry could provide.

Anara let out an exasperated groan as she stepped forward, knowing full well that this was the last place she wanted to be.

The bells tolled in the background, like an endless siren of constant reminder, "The city still mourns." Cassandra spoke as they walked forward towards people that walked the cities bridge.

Anara looked across the waters at the statues that littered the waters, all telling of Andraste until her eyes met with a woman. A gasp coming from her lips as she made a panicked noise. Pulling herself from distance with her. She shuffled, trying to step out of their path.

" Just a guess Seeker. But I think they all know who we are." Varric spoke, as the woman fled from them. As if they had somehow offended her very nature.

"Your skills of observation never fail to impress me, Varric."

Anara threw her head back in frustration, trying her best not to roll her eyes in annoyance. Sometimes she wished they would kiss and make up or something, but this CONSTANT arguing made married couples look tame.

Anara turned her attention back to the city, only a few steps in and they were stopped by a scout. The look on her face didn't spell the best situation ahead. "My lady herald." She got down on one knee as Cassandra looked her over.

"You're one of Leliana's people. What have you found?" Cassandra spoke in her usual authoritative manner.

"The Chantry mothers await you, but….So do a great many Templar's." Anara felt herself internally groan. Not Templar's….

"There are Templar's here?" Cassandra seemed shocked, very few if any Templar's remained loyal to The Chantry after the rebellion.

" People seem to think the Templar's will protect them from...From the inquisition.." Another groan went through her mind as she heard that, oh great. They're the bad guys now…

"They're gathering on the other side of the market. I think that's where they Templar's intend to meet you." She had stood up, willing to lead the Inquisition into Val Royeaux.

" Only one thing to do then." Cassandra spoke as she walked forward, unafraid and unapologetic to those who would question their motives.

The city was an homage to the life and trials of Andraste, it's foliage and gardens perfectly manicured. Anara walked through the gate that lead to the market, her eyes looking over what she could see. She had heard to tales of Val Royeaux when she was a child, and as she grew in the circle. The White Spire was located here, as was Empress Celene, but she felt foreign and alien to this area. Only knowing it through stories and pictures in books.

They walked into the market, people staring at them from all directions, people murmuring among themselves. Anara had heard stories about Orlais, but never expected to be here, as much as she fought it. Here she stood in Val Royeaux, surrounded by masks.

She felt a twinge of anxiousness as she looked out at the people, not a single one of them bare faces. All the masks ornate in colors and plumage. There was something unsettling about not being able to see the faces of those around you. Something that made the Orlesian Bard much more terrifying than an ordinary one. For an Orlesian Bard will stick you in the back, and you will rarely be able to differentiate them from the nobles that flooded the streets.

They looked through the crowd, seeing the priests from The Chantry rabble above the people on a platform demanding their attention.

"Good people of Val Royeaux, hear me!" Anara looked at the cleric that stood there, her thick Orlesian accent difficult for her to understand. " Together we mourn our Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery.." Anara heard enough to know where this was going. She felt her shoulders slump as the cleric walked forward, her speech continuing. " you wonder what will become of her murderer. Well, wonder no more!"

Oh man, here it comes.

"Behold the so-called Herald of Andraste! Claiming to rise where our beloved fell." She felt as if she was a beacon for all eyes that suddenly turned to her, " We say this is a false prophet! The Maker would send no mage in our hour of need!"

The crowd began to rally behind her words, shouting and cursing, Varric turned to Anara giving her a look of, 'Well, shit.' Solas kept calm in midst of the calamity that surrounded them, and Cassandra kept her head high regardless.

Anara's annoyance was beginning to wear thin, but she was a Trevelyan, and The Herald by the people. She had to be better than what she felt, " You say that _I_ am the enemy." She mustered as much diplomacy as she could find within herself, trying not to use violence as an answer.

'_That is what they'd expect from a mage, you're better than that. ' _She heard the voice of Solas in her head speak to her, helping her remain calm and collected in the midst of all this chaos. '_You are better Vhenan.'_

She had calmed herself enough to continue speaking, " The breach in the sky is our _true_ enemy. We must unite to stop it!"

Cassandra seemed better versed in this game than Anara, but in Val Royeaux her words would carry farther being the right hand after all. "It's true! The Inquisition seeks only to end the madness before it's too late!"

The crowd began to split down the middle in opinions. Those faithful to the Chantry continued their rabbling and cursing. Others began to murmur, doubt beginning to fill the people around them as they second guessed The Chantry, not knowing who to believe.

"It's already too late!" The cleric pointed at a group of Templar's that walked up on the platform, their armor ringing through the air as people gasped, talking among themselves. "The Templar's have returned to The Chantry! They will face this 'inquisition,' and the people will be safe once more!"

Anara could feel the power of the Templar's switch on, suppressing her and Solas's powers. Anara felt a panic run through her like a she was stranded in the middle of nowhere, or like a caged animal. She knew that this situation was bad, but she could feel the difference in the Templar's now.

The cleric cried out as she fell to the ground, a Templar punching her in response. People began to panic, she could sense it in the bodies of all those around her, even though she couldn't see their faces. She could hear the panic in their voices as they cried out against the Templar's. Anara felt uneasy looking at the older man, as he spoke to those still loyal to the Chantry, "Still yourself, she is beneath us."

She could feel his abilities strengthen and dominate those around her. No matter what her emotions Anara knew that there was no way to break his abilities. She felt as if she was being crushed slowly, her body heavy and lumbering against the feel as her magic suppressed.

Regardless of how much she despised the Chantry, she knew that there was no real reason to this mad display by the Templar's, "What is the meaning of this!?" She shouted, surprised by the sound of her voice as it echoed through the crowd, her anger showing through. '_Templar's'_ she thought, '_Bloody Templar's.'_

The man turned to look at her, his eyes cold and unnerving, "Her claim to authority is an insult. Much like your own." She bit back her tongue, wishing to shout how she hated the idea of being a leader, of being The Herald. But she knew that there was no way to save the situation in regard to this.

Cassandra broke away, not realizing the situation that they were in, " Lord Seeker Lucius, It's imperative that we speak with-"

"You will NOT address me." He continued to walk, ignoring Cassandra as she tried to catch up with him.

"Lord Seeker?" She was confused now, wondering what was happening with the Templar's.

" Creating a heretical movement, raising up a puppet as Andraste's Prophet. You should be ashamed." He came off as a disapproving father, scolding a child for misstepping. His cold eyes looked over them, seeking out into the crowd, "You should all be ashamed! The Templar's failed no one when they left The Chantry to purge the Mages!" His hand pointed out at Anara and Cassandra as they stood side by side. Cassandra taking his words too seriously, " You are the ones who have failed! You who'd leash our righteous swords with doubt and fear!"

Anara tried to cull her anger, to reel it in as she stared at the Templar. THIS is what she hated, when people were self righteous and full of themselves. She had been under the thumb of the Templar's all of her life, and this man, this lord seeker only seemed to remind her of her old Knight-Commander in Ostwick. His words stuck to her and made her feel dirty as she listened to him.

" If you came to appeal to The Chantry, you are too late. The only destiny here the demands respect in mine." In that moment Anara had made her decision, '_To the void with this, the Templar's made their bed.' _

But a voice in her head spoke of reason, she felt that it was Solas speaking to her, trying to reach through into her more noble and humble side. " Templar's, One of your own Commands the Inquisitions forces. Join us, as he did!"

She felt awkward throwing Cullen out there like that, using him as a reason to garner support.

" You're a mage! Your ties are worthless. They're all made traitors just by being in your company!" She felt herself step back, thinking to herself how low of a blow that was. She wanted to scream and to yell, to push through any and all Templar's powers and show them what a Mage's strength really was. But she felt the calming words of Solas in her head, trying to instill some calm in her, '_Vhenan, don't It's not worth it.'_

One Templar questioned him, wondered if she was truly sent by The Maker, but was rebuffed by the man who assaulted the cleric. " You are called to a higher purpose! Do not question!" She didn't like the sounds of their self righteousness. How they seemed to find a higher purpose in killing other mages she didn't know. Most mages were cast out from the circles like she was, hoping to find purpose in the world that once abandoned her.

" _I_ will make the Templar order a power that stand alone against the void. _We _deserve recognition. Independence!" He stood against them as if he was standing against the tide, " You have shown me nothing, and the inquisition….Less than nothing."

Anara looked at the man, trying to hide her anger and to keep her magic down as he continued on, " Templar's! Val Royeaux is unworthy of our protection! We march!"

She watched as they left the city, their backs to The Chantry and to it's people. Varric tried to make light of the situation as Cassandra tried to pick it apart. She spoke of the man that she once knew, but this man was different, different than what she remembered him as.

Anara didn't care about the man that Cassandra once knew but instead the man that they saw there right now. Regardless of what Cassandra thought, she knew that the Templar's were out of reach, and would no longer be an aid that they could rely on.

She wondered if he can be reasoned with, but in her mind she knew that the Lord Seeker was too far gone from the rest of the world. Cassandra spoke as she too watched the Templar's leave.

" We should first return to Haven, and inform the others."

Anara walked forward, hearing the sound of an arrow sticking into the ground. Cassandra shouted , "What's that? An arrow with a message?"

Anara crouched in front of the arrow, pulling the letter free. Looking at the strange cryptic message that was written. She stood up, Cassandra wondering what had happened, what she had read.

Anara turned to the group, looking them over as she held the letter up, taking one last look before she spoke, "It looks like we're not quite free from Val Royeaux just yet…."


	14. Chapter 14

**Apologies for the lateness of all of this. Weddings eh?**

**We've had to book a venue, set a date, look at vendors, think of caterers, talk to friends about engagement photos and wrangle our families. I spent about 3 days now trying to talk between my bridesmaids about dress fittings and all that jazz. 3 days, and all I got finished was a date and time to meet up. That's it uuuuuuggggghhhh.**

**Oh man someone tell me that this wedding thing gets easier in time...Cause that'd be great.**

**In other words I was also on a mini vacation so I don't go insane from work and wedding stuff...To say the least I got a pretty bad cold during vacation. So, I. WILL. LIVE. ON!**

**But regardless, I will try to keep up to date on this! Just. So. Much. Stress.**

**Onward, to victory!**

They had wandered around Val Royeaux, taking in the sights and sounds of the grand city. Anara didn't want to spend too much time exploring the area, they had someone to meet that night. She didn't always take letters tied to arrows as a good sign, the fact that it was aimed in her direction didn't ease her either.

Solas had looked uncomfortable, honestly, everyone had looked uncomfortable. Varric was muttering about politics and how it rivaled the merchants guild. Cassandra hated the idea of being stopped, either recognized as the right hand of the divine, or as a Pentaghast. Solas only took notice to the Orlesians gaze of him as he wandered with the group. Obviously seen as below the rankings of a Trevelyan, a Pentaghast and a Tethras. His eyebrows furrowed as he thought to himself, lost within his own mind, remembering the tales of Red Crossing and the exalted march the Chantry had against the elves. Solas left a mental reminder to himself to explore that past within the fade when he had the chance.

Solas looked up, noticing Anara's concerned look. He forced a smile, trying to help her alleviate some of her worry. He was fine, he swore in his mind and in his heart as he tried to push down the feelings he felt in the back of his mind. He began to doubt himself, to doubt the strength of the love he felt for the woman in front of him. She was a noble, and he an elf that would be a servant among her kind. But he knew that her affection for him was genuine, but he had felt a small amount of doubt in his mind, only to what he knew was hidden there.

Night began to fall as the lights began to shine within the city, torches and lamps left a dim glow through the courtyards and markets. The slow chill of winter beginning to seep it's way into the bone of those in less appropriate attire.

The nobles began to flee back to their chateaus, or their quarters. Regaling to themselves and all those within earshot about their family and their importance.

Anara's hand rubbed her temple as she heard waves of Orlesians talk about lineage and history of their family as they walked off. The great game that they loved so much was beginning to get it's swing as night fell. Balls and parties would begin and soon enough so will the conniving backstabbing.

There was a collective sigh of relief as it felt they were the only ones left in the courtyard. Heavy coats and furs helped stave of the winter cold. Something they felt the Orlesians couldn't possibly understand.

The night felt longer than it was supposed to be. Especially after the meeting of a red Jenny. Or THE red Jenny? It was difficult to decipher by the way she spoke. "Squishy one, but you heard me right? ' Just say what." Anara found the woman odd as she pulled the arrow from the man's throat, "Blah, blah, blah. Obey men, arrow in my face."

Her voice felt frantic and rushed as she kept talking, rambling on and on. Anara didn't mind all the talk and the flare for the dramatic, but she preferred the guardsmen that she fought to have breeches…

The woman laughed, and introduced herself as Sera, and Solas seemed to look at the elf with curiosity. She was a strange one indeed, always chattering away and rambling on and on about things that didn't concern him. Let alone, he didn't feel it should concern Anara as well, but she was in a good enough mood. Allowing her to humor her with her words and strange anecdotes.

Varric seemed strangely amused by her antics and the way she talked. Wondering if her mind was a jumbled mess like her speech.

Cassandra on the other hand was cross with the whole situation. Her arms crossed over her chest as she listened to Sera talk, the usual grimace coming to her face. She looked at the bag of breeches that Sera had conveniently with her, as she shoved them off on Anara, giggling away as she left for Haven. Cassandra didn't approve of the heralds choice in their new companion and ally.

" Are you certain about this?" She spoke, looking at the herald.

Anara looked down at the bag letting out an exclaimed yelp as she realized what it was that she was holding. The bag hitting the ground, Her face twisting in both curiosity and the smallest disgust. "By Andraste..where those washed?"

Varric chuckled looking at Anara, "Hey, you never know when we'll need some breeches for the men." Varric egged her on to picking the bag back up.

She let out a disgusted grunt as she stepped away. Her foot nudging the bag away from her. "Bag of breeches..." She muttered under her breath, wishing to leave Val Royeaux. The city was beginning to vex her, the numerous politics and nobles were drawing on the last threads of patience that she had. The circle wasn't filled with political backstabbing, and people seeking movement in the hierarchy. Ostwick seemed like a distant more fond memory in retrospect of what she was staring at here.

Their movement was strained as they began to step away from the market that they first entered, beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Anara could sense another body coming within distance of them. Her senses felt out like roots to a tree, her magic sensing others. She turned to look to Solas, his eyes having the same look of confusion and alarm that she felt within herself.

The magic felt different, restrained but something about it felt touched. Like a different set of rules fell behind it and controlled it. Her hand gripped tighter on her staff expecting an ambush. She could sense the same feeling from Solas, both of them prepared for the worst as Cassandra and Varric moved on without a care in the world.

"If I might have a moment of your time?" The group turned, looking at an elf in mages robes walking towards them. Anara's eyebrows furrowed, looking at the woman who seemed so familiar.

"Grand enchanter Fiona?" Cassandra recognized her as Anara took a few moments to look her over. Trying to remember the leader of their rebellion.

"Leader of the mage rebellion. Is it not dangerous for you to be here?" Solas realized who she was by Cassandra's words. Indeed, it is dangerous for any mage to be here, for the herald to be here, for the leader of the rebellion to be HERE.

"I heard of this gathering, and I wanted to see the fabled Herald of Andraste with me own eyes."

She looked upon Anara with a familiar gaze, maybe realizing the irony for Andraste of all people to choose a mage as her herald. Her eyes, seemed to pierce hers, almost as if she was reaching into her very soul. Anara could feel a cold grip within herself with Fiona's eyes upon her. Her mouth spoke again, " If it's help with the breach you seek. Perhaps my people are the wiser option."

Anara cocked an eyebrow at the Mage leader, "I'm surprised the leader of the mages wasn't at the conclave." Her skills at negotiating and speaking to people on the same level apparently needed work.

" Yes. You were supposed to be, and yet somehow you avoided death.." Cassandra came off more suspicious in how she spoke, making Anara sound less antagonistic.

" As did the lord Seeker, you'll note. Both of us sent negotiators in our stead, in case it was a trap." Her eyes moved away from Cassandra, no longer needing to justify her suspicion. Instead her eyes turned back to Anara, that strange icy grip coming back as she stared at her, her words forming. " I won't pretend I'm not glad to live. I lost many dear friends that day.."

Fiona seemed to focus on her words, pulling the pains that Anara felt when she awoken from her sleep. Realizing all the death and destruction that she emerged from, all the lives that had perished. All the sorrow and how the veil had torn open from all that death, all that...Magic..

"It disgusts me to think the Templar's will get away with it. I'm hoping you won't let them." It felt as if Fiona looked into her very mind to see her dislike for the Templar's. But she realized, it didn't take much to sense that she was a circle mage, just like Fiona.

No circle was truly kind, every circle mage knew that. Some were worse off than others, Kirkwall in the past years had deteriorated to nothing now. Kinloch Hold during the last blight was something as well. She had heard stories about it from Ostwick. Of demons roaming freely within the walls. Maleficarum practicing on each other, and how the Hero of Ferelden saved them from themselves.

" Consider this an invitation to Redcliffe: come meet with the mages. An alliance could help us both after all. I hope to see you there. Au revoir, my lady Herald." Her eyes lingered for a moment, turning her back to them as she left their sight. Anara felt different about Fiona and her invitation, suspicion filling her mind with doubt and concern.

'_Vhenan'_ Her head twitched, looking for Solas out the corner of her eyes. He stood there in the back, his hand still braced on his staff as he looked out, past the area that Fiona inhabited. ' _Trust your instinct.'_

She could sense his mounting concern as well, both trying to figure out what they felt in her presence. Magic was a creature all in it's own, like the ebb and flow of the oceans it pushed and pulled at those around it. Drawing some in, and pushing some away. Fiona's magic, her presence drew in your magic, as if consuming it, draining it from one. Surely Cassandra must've felt it, she was a Seeker after all…

Cassandra turned to Anara, her short black hair falling into her eyes as she spoke, " Come. let us return to Haven." It had seemed that Cassandra met the situation with suspicion as well. She had hoped that she too sensed something from the Grand Enchanter, the strange chill she brought to the air.

Cassandra though pushed all the concern down inside, trying to not let it surface as they left Val Royeaux. The grand city in all it's marble and decorated glory well behind them. Another, hopefully distant memory to be left in the dust with everything else. They had gained a companion in Red Jenny, and an enemy in the Templar's. They were extended an invitation for alliance in yet something deeply troubling in it's wake. They did not leave empty handed to say the least, but didn't leave with the information they wanted either.

The days marched on as they made their way back to the Frost-backs. Solas telling the group of his adventures in The Fade. Assuring both Varric and Cassandra that his journeys never meant any harm, only observation.

As each night progressed Solas told her stories of times much different. Of times before man, when all that there was were elves and nature. He'd spin tales of Arlathan, the great Elven city before the rise of Tevinter, and before the disappearance of the Elven gods because of the one called Fen'Harel.

Solas would lay there beside her, his arm pulling her body closer as he looked up into the night sky. Haven was only a days march away now, and Anara knew when they were within the town they had to be careful. Solas reminded her how humans would never understand their connection, and how the Dalish have fought over such things as love.

" We live in a world Vhenan, in which neither Humans or Elves could understand this." She felt his hand pull hers to his lips, placing a light kiss on her palm. Her head rested in his shoulder, sighing contently at the feel of his lips.

"I do not care for what people don't understand Solas." She moved her head to his chest as she looked at him. " People fear magic because they do not understand it. So why should I care what they feel about us?"

Solas smiled softly at the Anara, "Well put, I suppose there isn't much to argue then."

She smiled back, determination on her face, "No indeed." She had rolled on top of his hips, her hands holding his as she looked at his fingers. " I do not care for their opinions.." She brought his hands to her lips, kissing his knuckles gently. "For the only opinions I care for are yours.." She bent down, pulling his arms above his head as she leaned in, her lips inching away from his, " And mine.." The words touched his lips, sealing unspoken promises as she pressed her lips against his.

She felt him stiffen underneath her as he groaned, not feeling her lips or her touch for weeks felt like an eternity to him. Setting fire to a desire that he has long suppressed in the company of others and their travels, hoping not to expose himself to all eyes.

He would make her his tonight, regardless of what others thought and said, he loved her and the fear and doubt he felt before fell away like a burdensome armor.

Solas pulled himself from his mind as they reached the gates. Pulling himself quickly from the events of last night, back under the eyes and scrutiny of all those around.

He pulled himself away from the group as they entered the small town. Ferelden was still filled with prejudice towards Elves, but it seemed their spite for Orlais was the glue that kept them together. Solas understood that much, but for him and elf to be seen with The Herald, and a Noble...Well, to say the least it wouldn't bode well with Orlesian courts.

He trekked his way through, making his way back to the solitude that greeted him at Adan's. Like a perch overlooking a forest, Solas could see the life and activity of the town from right there, ever watchful.

Cassandra and Anara walked across the training yard, the area suspiciously quiet. There were no clashing swords, or blocking shields or their Commander screaming of terrible blocks and training exercises. It was all suspicious.

The Chantry doors were wide open as they looked at Josephine walking towards them, the gold satin on her outfit making her the easy to spot.

" It's good you've returned. We heard of your encounter.."

"You heard?" Cassandra asked just as confused as Anara was of the sudden situation that they were thrust into.

Cullen and Leliana rushed from the War room, Cullen still vigilant, like a Mabari ready to pounce. His eyes looked weary from talk and lack of sleep, the stress he was feeling flooded his face. He looked like he had grown older in the weeks that they had left. Cullen's eyes pulled up from the floor, trying to remain the neutral column within the Inquisition.

Her eyebrows furrowed in worry, she felt she had seen something like this before in the Templar's and mages within her tower. Like a lingering disease that has spread from the deepest corners of Thedas into her adviser.

Leliana broke the silence between them, " My agents in the city sent word ahead, of course." She felt her head suddenly remember, ' _Right, Spymaster...' _ It was as if that has escaped her mind at some point in the last weeks, forgetting the talents that the left hand of the Divine had before her appointment.

Cullen had crossed his arms over his chest, his armor looked dark in the dim light of the room, but she could see what he felt. She could sense it.

His powers were waning, weakening; like a limb without use or purpose. His power would weakly reach out for hers, like a dying lover in a last embrace. She knew that she shouldn't show her signs of worry so much, so easily in the eyes of a spymaster and a seeker. Would they know? Would they know of the proposition that Solas and her gave Cullen? Did they already know about it? No, this was not the time for such thoughts and questions to enter her mind. She had to focus.

" It's a shame the Templar's have abandoned their senses as well as the capital." Cullen looked her in the eyes, as if silently pleading for her to stop worrying. She felt her shoulders relax as she calmed herself down, realizing the truth in his wordless plea.

" We have the opening we need to approach the Templar's and the Mages." Josephine cut in as Anara moved Cullen, slowly pushing past him, her magic trying to sense the Commander and get a feel for his ailment.

They all began a slow walk towards the War Room, reviewing details and rumors that they have heard. Reports from Leliana's agents had been varied to say the least. Cullen insisted on working with the Templar's regardless of the Lord Seekers change in personality.

Josephine mentioned the Mages and she could feel Cullen's mood sully. His temper seemed to be a taut line, almost in the midst of breaking.

"You think the Mage Rebellion is more united? It could be ten times worse!" Cullen snapped back, Anara could feel annoyance rise up in him.

She took a breath, slowly feeling the cold in her magic take shape within her, cooling her down from the intense situation. She looked over the three before her, " Or you could stop bickering and make a decision.." She tried to pull it off as humor but Cassandra took it instead as a command, agreeing to her attempt.

They bickered and argued and fought with each other again and again in the middle of the Chantry. Trying to decide which side will be better to align with, the mages were desperate and possibly dangerous, but the same could be said about the Templar's. In the end, there felt like there was no real decision made once again.

Anara began to slowly lose hope in their ability to work together, her hand rubbing her temple as she closed her eyes. Hearing the familiar voice of the Spymaster as she stepped forward, "There is one other matter.."

Anara's eyes looked up to meet with the redhead that stood before her, " Several months ago, the Grey Wardens of Ferelden vanished. I sent word to those in Orlais, but they have also disappeared."

She gave the woman a confused look, knowing that the Hero of Ferelden was still a Grey Warden as well as the Queen, " Ordinarily I wouldn't even consider the idea they're involved in all this, but the timing is….Curious."

Anara didn't want to jump to conclusions and wanted to keep her glorified image of the Ferelden Queen in her mind. Not wishing to sully it with speculation, " So you're telling me this because…?"

" The others have disregarded my suspicion, but I cannot ignore it. Two days ago, my agents in The Hinterlands heard news of a Grey Warden by the name of Blackwall."

Anara seemed to think to add another mental item to her list of things to do in The Hinterlands. Save the land from the rebels, get Master Dennet, Talk with the Mages, and now the loss of Grey Wardens.

" If you have the opportunity, please seek him out. Perhaps he can put my mind at ease."

" And if he can't?" Anara's voice was beginning to sound serious as she thought more about the Grey Wardens absence in the region.

"Then there may be more going on than we thought." Leliana turned away from Anara, leaving the room to her as she thought.

Anara began to sense the creeping feel of doubt as she thought about the Grey Wardens. She had heard of Fiona joining the Wardens, and being the only Mage to return to the circle. She had heard the tale of King Alistair and his Queen, they would surely know of the Wardens disappearance would they not? She didn't know anymore, her doubt was beginning to seep deeper into her mind, causing her to second guess her choice in the mages.

"Vhenan?" She heard a voice speak from the door, her eyes turning up to see Solas's frame in the doorway.

"Solas." She spoke, trying to hold some ground of professionalism, she knew his need to uphold appearances, but he seemed different in his manner.

" It seems our commanders and diplomats are still at an impasse?" Solas walked through the hall, his arms crossing his chest as he approached. "I think Vhenan, you need to take a step away from this burden of decision."

Anara made sure they were alone, as she gently smiled at Solas, allowing herself to relax enough in his presence, "What do you have in mind?"

Solas smiled back, gentle but restrained as he leaned in closely. "I assume you're still curious about the history of the fifth blight?"

She could feel a grin pull across her lips, Solas seemed to know what kinds of stories and magic he needed to make her feel better. " Indeed I am."

Solas nodded gently as he turned his back to her, " Good, I've heard stories of the Hero of Ferelden's presence at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Do you wish to see history first hand?"

She laughed, following alongside Solas as his face went back to it's neutral and passive self. "Of course! How can I say no?"

They stood outside the Chantry the darkness taking hold of the world around them as the town remained in hushed silence. The eternal brazier burned outside the doors, fires from the nearby camps lighting the way. Solas looked ahead, his eyes looking over the Commander as he stood there, watching the two mages.

" I suggest my dear that we Fade step..or all eyes will be on us." Solas's eyes looked at Anara, still putting on a show for the rest of the world.

Cullen looked them over, wondering what was up the mages sleeves. They looked like they were scheming and plotting once again. His eyes met with Anara's as she laughed to Solas, seeing her smile and joyful made apart of him happy. Glad that she was finally better now, if only on the surface. But Cullen had wished that it was beyond him making an ass of himself that she would've sought joy.

He looked at Solas and watched as he began to glow an eerie blue. Cullen knew a fade step when he saw it, but his abilities were not strong enough to stop it, even if he wanted to. But he knew that neither of the mages showed any form of distrust in him. In fact both seemed to trust him almost implicitly, something he would've never expected from them.

His eyes met back with the brown depths of Anara's eyes, a smile spreading across her lips as she smiled almost playfully at the Commander.

She raised her eyebrows almost as if she was suggesting something. Cullen was glad to see her smile at him, even if he felt that smile wasn't truly for him.

He watched as she bit her lower lip, her smile still there as she too began to glow. Her brown eyes and smile the last thing he saw until she disappeared in a streak of blue light.

It seemed that she had finally recovered, no longer dwelling on her hatred and self pity. But instead becoming the mage and the leader that the inquisition needed. Becoming the woman that he knew she truly was deep down inside, the woman he was falling in love with.


	15. Chapter 15

**Today, I had to try on wedding dresses and listen to criticism for about 4 hours straight. I. Am. Exhausted.**

The world shifted around her as she left the town of Haven behind, sensing her way through the world by the feel of Solas's magic. She dug in deep into her mana extending her movement towards the temple. She felt his magic shift and fade as she made it up the hill, her feet stopping as she suddenly stopped. Her feet stumbled as she tried to slow herself down from the fade step.

Solas stood there, his back against the tree as he watched her stumble by. A smirk spread across his lips as she stumbled by trying not to laugh. She had finally made it to a halt, looking over at the smirking elf.

"You find something funny?" She asked, patting herself down, she rarely ever used fade step, and it seemed she was out of practice.

Solas shook his head, trying to suppress his laughter some more. "No Vhenan, just bemused."

"We never fade stepped in The Circle. Too confined." She faced Solas, as he stared out over the remnants of the Temple. The Breach still filled the sky with an unnatural green, the demons had left, but they could both feel the veil at it's thinnest here.

Solas reached his hand out, grasping hers in his hand, "The veil is thin here, thin enough to walk through history if you still wish."

Anara smiled, looking over the land, "I wish to see this before the explosion, as the Hero of Ferelden did."

Solas nodded, pulling her down to the ground as he sat, his legs crossed. She looked him over, mimicking his stance, his hands outreached to her, "Empty your mind Vhenan, and hold my hands, and we shall see the echo of history through their eyes."

His eyes slowly closed as his breathing evened out, slow and steady as he walked through the veil into the fade's steps of the past.

Anara regained her curiosity, wondering what sorts of magic he learned while wandering the world that allowed him such access to the past. She breathed deep, her eyes closing as her hands reached for his.

Their skin touched, like a jolt of lightning running through them as her mind synced with his, joining him in history, through the eyes of the Hero of Ferelden and Queen.

Her eyes adjusted to the blasted ground around them, her hands felt calloused and strong. She looked down at the daggers in her hands, and felt the heavy mail that she wore. She felt burdensome and heavy, like she was dragging behind everyone. But it seemed that everyone was in stride with her.

Anara turned to look at the group, seeing the King of Ferelden beside her, a gentle smile on his face as they walked. His shield in his hand as his armor seemed to shine in the light, he was something out of legend, out of books told to little girls. A man girls and women dreamed to swoon over and marry. A king in the making.

She saw an elderly woman, a mage just like her, her age not taking away her determination and strength as she moved with grace at the back of the group. She could sense her magic, as if she left a residual mark on the place, like she had been touched by something beyond the physical.

Lastly she looked over, a bard..With red hair and a thick Orlesian accent, she heard her speak, talk of Andraste and the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Leliana? Her Spymaster? She was younger, 10 years to be precise, her attitude was more jovial and devout still speaking of The Maker as they made their approach.

She heard a roar echo through the mountains as a dragon flew high above them. Making it's way to the top, resting it's head on the edge as if to overlook the whole area.

Anara felt a panic freeze up inside of her as she felt her body move. She didn't want to move, didn't actually move. But through the eyes of the Hero of Ferelden she would learn to put fear behind her.

Her movements were quick but thought out as she made her way across the land, a vast empty dead space in between the bridge and the temple.

The land was gray, blasted with scorch marks from the dragon above. There were ruins in the distance, columns and arches left to an empty world filled with ash and smoke.

She heard her party chatter behind her as she made her way across, disregarding the slower way across the land, dragon or no dragon, she had somewhere to go. The older woman was concerned about it's appetite, noting it would prefer younger, fresher meat to her "stringy" bones.

She felt her hands press against the door, taking her breaths as she prepared to open it. She looked back on the party behind her, their blades and staves up in defense for what awaited them. Alistair gave a nod, letting her know that they were all prepared for what laid ahead.

The door opened, and they were met with darkness of the temple. It's statues blank and weathered, holding forever as a testament to time. They continued forward as the hall opened up, a figure standing at the end towards the door.

"Hold.." She spoke as she looked ahead of the group, uncertain if they were friend or foe.

He stood there in full armor, with no weapon in his hand it reassured them as they walked forward. He made no move, had no aggression but instead welcomed them with ease, " I bid you welcome, Pilgrim."

Pilgrim? Anara thought to herself, but had no way to speak she could only live vicariously through The Hero as she spoke, " You must be the guardian?"

" Yes, I am the guardian of the Ashes." His voice rang through the room, eerie and cold. Like all things regarding Ferelden...Well, not all things.

He spoke of the Imperium and it's effects on the world, of his brethren that had forgotten their promise to Andraste and had turned away from their duty. He had spoke of countless centuries waiting for others to come, to be in the presence of Andraste.

She listened to the figure speak of The Hero Ellandra's past, of the path she had taken to get here. Of the pain that swelled inside of it, of the suffering of others.

She could feel her eyes burning, the feel of tears beginning to form at the mention of her parents. The Couslands. She could feel her jaw clench and her eyebrows furrow in pain as she relived the memory of how she was conscripted into the Grey Wardens.

Anara became lost in the thoughts of Ellandra's mind, and the history that she now shared with The Hero.

She heard Alistair speak, his words trying to remain comforting to her, in yet standing tall against adversity.

But in his strength he crumbled to his own self doubt, Alistair bowed his head in defeat, knowing well what the spirit knew within all their hearts. He spoke to Leliana, tearing down her faith slowly in her own self doubt. Telling her the maker has all but gone. Anara wondered if this was the moment she changed, that Leliana began her road to become Spymaster and left hand of the divine.

The door opened to them as they made their way to the trials, finding their way to the urn of sacred Ashes. She felt the rush of the spirits that filled the riddles within the hall fly past, merging with the door, allowing them access further into the temple. Anara was in wide eyed wonder at the world around her, of the magic that filled and flowed within this ancient place.

She could feel her heart stop as they walked through the door, the figure of a man before them. She could feel tears forming in her eyes as she gazed upon the person in front of her. _Father?_ she heard a whisper within as her stomach clenched and her muscles tensed.

" My dearest child…" Her breath began to quicken as he spoke to her.

"Father?" she spoke, her voice cracking as tried to regain herself in this moment. Tears welled up as he spoke to her again,

" You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back.."

She could sense Alistair beside her, his arm wanting to touch her shoulder in comfort. Tears began to streak across her face, mixing with the dirt covered her face.

"No more must you grieve pup, take the pain and guilt and acknowledge it, and let go. It is time."

She could feel her throat choke up as she wanted to speak, wanted to scream and howl in pain, but held herself back if only for his words. " You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared. And so I leave this in your hands..I know you will do great things with it.."

With that, his visage disappeared, leaving only an empty hole in her heart, and pain in it's wake. She cried out in pain, her knees giving in as she fell to the ground, her head slumping over as she cried, fingers digging into the exposed earth.

Alistair leaned down, his arm on her shoulder, trying to end her pain. "Ellandra.." His voice came out soothing, and warm, like the gentle touch on her shoulder. He tried to talk through to her, to mend her sore and broken heart. His hand pulled her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet his, as his thumb wiped away the tears staining her cheeks. "Ella. It is time to move on.." Alistair pressed his temple against hers as she held back more tears.

His arms rested on hers, bringing her in and calming her, the sweetest and gentlest words upon his lips. With promises of a better tomorrow.

There was a flash, a blinding searing pain that shot through her as her mind filled with a distant memory.

There she stood at the shores of Lake Calenhad, her eyes looking over a tower that stood in the middle, the moonlight silhouette across the lake. The sounds of the lapping waters and distant sound of a tavern. She stared at the single boat, slowly rowing across the waters to the towers shores.

She felt the burn of fire as she stood there in a hallway, smoke and demons filled the rooms, mages fighting with Templars, with each other. Smoke and blood filled the air, the scent unwavering. She could hear abominations march through the halls, and desire demons prey on the weak. This memory, seemed all too real of what could've happened in Ostwick if she kept to her unruliness.

She felt a chill cover her body as she stood at the stairs near the top. Knowing the heat that enveloped them would keep the chill at bay, but her eyes wandered helplessly through the room. The tower was blighted, filled with pustules and flesh, like it was a breathing but dying creature. Infected and left to rot within itself, she heard a voice. Tired, and tortured, still fighting for his very last breath, a voice all too familiar.

"Commander?" Her eyes drifted across the room, to the sight of him on the floor, his hands up in prayer. She watched him fight, his mind trying to stay strong as Ellandra tried to comfort him, speaking softly the words of The Maker.

But he was stuck, trapped in his cage, in his torture, cursing and fighting like an animal with it's leg caught in a trap. He shouted and cursed, spouting hatred for mages, of blood magic and demons. Pointing accusing fingers and spiteful glances at the mage with Ellandra. He hated them, hated mages, blamed them for his pain and suffering. For his loss, for everything.

Anara was taken aback, her heart lurching in pain at the sight of him. He was younger, he didn't know any better..He couldn't have..

This was the blight, and it was a different time then now, then what they were fighting.

But she was a mage.

She pulled herself away from this memory, this distant idea of her Commander like her body was burned by a fire. She pulled herself back, this was not something she needed to see, these weren't her memories.

She opened her eyes, a shock running through her as she felt the cold seep into her body, Solas in front of her, his mind still focused. She panted, as her body fell forward, Solas opened his eyes, his hand touching her back as she reeled in pain.

"Vhenan? What is the matter?" Solas became concerned as he moved to his knees, supporting her body against his.

"I..I saw too much.." Her magic waned as she felt the pain rush through her again. Her mind fighting the memories that she knew of her Commander. He was different now...Wasn't he? He seemed forever suspicious of her and Solas, was it from their magic? Or from their relationship? Anara didn't know, but she didn't want to dwell too much on the thought, it was something beyond her control.

Solas looked up into the sky staring at the Breach as the hues of morning burst forth into the sky. Bleeding with the green, stopping it from entering the world like some unknown force. "Vhenan, we should get back. We have a long day ahead of us.."

She nodded, her eyes sweeping over the valley around them as morning came to life. With it, so will their adventure continue.

They marched back into The Hinterlands, trying to make their way to Redcliffe on Fionas invitation. The path winding through the mountains and trails. Anara's eyes looked over the land, seeing it all different from the memories that she once walked through. How tattered and broken the lands once were from the Blight, and how the ten years difference left it's mark upon the land. Her eyes would flicker towards Solas, whose hand still held his staff as his mind reached out to hers, _Vhenan, what is the matter?_

Her eyes looked down as they continued their journey, words unspoken between them as they reached the top of the hill, a rift between them and the gate that remained shut to them. The demons roared and howled in might as they fled from the rift their bodies shifting towards them.

Cassandra ran towards the demons, her shouts powering her as she charged into the fray, her sword and shield making it's way through the demons as Varric stood back, Bianca firing into the battle tirelessly. Solas let his magic flow forth as the winds of winter grasped the bodies of lesser demons, causing them to shatter and fade back.

But Anara's mind was caught in the rift, in the demons and power that filtered through. She stumbled, her movement was slow as she tried to fight the pull of the magic within the rift. Beckoning her, her feet no longer apart of her will, but the will of another. She could hear it sing, hum a sweet tune that she had only known.

Solas watched as she walked towards the rift, with no intention of stopping it's power. "Anara?" Solas watched her as she reached out her hand to the rift, watching the clawed hands of a demon reaching out to her.

"Anara!" He shouted across the field, his body moving as Cassandra cut down another enemy, it's scream echoing through the area around them.

Solas raced, he had spent too long to see her be pulled into the waiting hands of a demon. His staff knocking back lesser demons as winters chill enveloped him, his body fade stepping across the field in a streak of blue light.

Anara's hand reached out, the hum so familiar, the tune she used to sing as a small child. The same tune she sang to her brother. "Tobias.." She whispered, her fingers reaching out to his as he spoke to her,

"Let us go home my dear sister.." Her mind flittered through her memories, of holding his sleeping form when he was born. Of the hum of songs she sang to him as he grew, and of the tears she felt when she was sent away. How he was the only who wasn't afraid of her magic, and how he must've hated it when she was gone, absent of her humming.

She felt a hand grab her wrist, pulling her hand back as she screamed, Solas dragged her away from the rift as she kicked and screamed, "Tobias!" She shouted, her other hand reaching out to him, as Solas saw it's true form.

A Desire demon, warping Anara's mind and giving her false hopes as it tore through her memories. Solas could hear her sob as he continued to pull her away, wishing only for her to be free from it's magic. As the last demon fell the mark worked it's will, sending forth it's power to close the rift. "No!" She screamed Solas held her back.

Varric and Cassandra turned looking at her in stunned silence as she tried to fight to the rift, "No! Tobias!" She screamed again, the loud drone from the anchor closing the rift overpowering her screams.

Solas watched as the demon pulled itself back in, knowing not to lose itself within the broken rift. As it closed, he watched a faint smile play upon it's lips as it licked one long finger at him. "Foul demon.." He cursed under breath, knowing it was the same demon that tempted him with Anara's return.

The rift exploded, shards of the fade disappearing into the real world. The land around the rift seemed to pulse, it's shape and color different; dead compared to the life that surrounded them in the world.

Cassandra looked at Solas, who held Anara back as she sobbed, her hand twitching from the power within her mark.

"What was that…?" She spoke to Solas, his arms bracing her shoulders as she fought back the tears in her eyes.

Cassandra assumed she was talking of the change within the land, and spoke to those around her, as Solas knew she spoke to him. "That was a desire demon Vhenan, she probed your mind, and found the thing you most desire. It seems you still wish your brother to live."

She slumped her shoulders into Solas's arms, feeling the emotional toll come down and take her as her head bowed, closing in close for only Solas to hear, "I cannot do this.." She sobbed to him, hiding her feelings from the world around her.

"You can Vhenan, you must, no one else can." His eyes looked at hers, as she pulled back her tears as she looked at Solas.

" Something's not right…" She looked to Solas and the group as they looked back in silent confusion to her words as she moved. Anara moved forward, pushing the feelings of disappointment down inside herself as she walked forward. The staff still moving in her hand as she felt the mark within her pulse from the power she felt.

" Stay on your guard…" Anara moved forward, the gate to Redcliffe finally opening to them.

They met with a scout, a man who was in confusion to the situation presented, "No one was expecting us." He spoke, looking at Anara as she grasped her staff, pulling it close as she looked around, it seemed the area has taken a more aggressive stance since the blight.

" No one?" Her eyes moved back to the scout as her eyebrows furrowed, "Not even grand Enchanter Fiona?" Her confusion becoming more evident on her face as the scout shrugged,

"If she was. She hasn't told anyone. We've arranged use of the tavern for the negotiations.."

They were cut off by a younger elf, a mage just like her and Solas, his movement was erratic as he tried to cover himself with apologies. " Agents of The Inquisition, my apologies! Magister Alexius is in charge now, but hasn't yet arrived. He's expected shortly.."

"You can speak with the former grand enchanter in the meantime." She felt her jaw lock as she looked at the elf,

"Former?" He rushed himself away from the group as she spoke in annoyance to his words. Fiona was Grand enchanter, still is, not 'was'.

The air felt different, and Solas took notice, the veil was weaker, altered, touched in such a way that it bent the will of time and changed the land around them at the previous rift. But she could feel the fear and worry that had filled the hearts of many here. It seemed that with the weakness in the fade, also allowed a weakness in appearances. There were many hushed whispers as they moved towards the village. The sun burst forth from the clouds in the sky, the light reminding them of the world they were meant to save. Of the land that stood before them that was burned in blights and bloody in battle. Of the windmill on the hill that led the Grey Wardens into the castle of Redcliffe.

She had heard the stories while in the circle, the tales of demons and the deal a boy made. It was a reminder of the lies demons spun, and the repercussions of believing their tales.

They had moved into the village, as her eyes looked over the marvel that she had only heard of from the Circle. Redcliffe, was a decisive move in the blight and in saving the village and the Arl, the Queen of Ferelden and King Alistair secured themselves on Ferelden's throne.

They walked through the village as people turned to look at them, Anara noticed the mages that had gathered in the town. Their staves and robes making themselves obvious, but they had no choice.

Most mages within the Free Marches had rebelled after the events in Kirkwall, most taking shelter and refuge there as they planned their attacks accordingly. The rest fled to Ferelden, where King Alistair offered sanctuary, but Anara never had the chance to join her colleagues here. Instead she met at the Conclave, hoping to meet and be apart of such pivotal history for all mages.

Her hand touched the Griffon statue that stood in the middle of the town, it's reminder to the world of the Grey Wardens, and of the Hero's aid during those times. A shiver ran down her spine as she felt as if she was reliving history, wishing only again to see the world through Ellandra's eyes.

She had walked the town, speaking to both elves and humans, mages and Chantry. She too spoke, to the warning of the young man she had heard so many years ago. Of the once prince of Redcliffe named Connor.

She felt pity and remorse for the young man. Knowing full well his plight as a noble with magic, but it felt like the wounds of his deal with demons were still fresh upon his mind. Something she felt, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Solas touched her shoulder, his touch reminding him of the feel of Alistair's hand on Ellandra's shoulder. The gentleness and sweetness that she felt in their history.

She turned to look at him as he nodded, his eyes looking up the hill towards the tavern that they had to head towards. "We must Vhenan, for no one else will."

She wished to turn away, to hide from the world and waste away in isolation. But this duty was put upon her, was burned into her with the mark, no one else could do it. For someone else could do it wrong.

They passed mages collected outside the tavern, waiting. She pushed her hand against the door, as the group followed in tow, Varric looking around at the glum on the faces of the mages, "You'd think someone died with all these sour faces.."

Anara looked as she noticed all the mages were staring at them, their eyes piercing right through them as she felt their magic wane. Her hands pushed the door open as they walked in, the tavern, surprisingly empty.

Anara felt right from the bat that this was a trap, she was enclosed and caged. In an area that had little to no people in it, but Fiona stood there her face confused but open to them.

"Welcome, agents of the Inquisition…"


End file.
